The Chakra Alchemist
by Moonlight Pheonix
Summary: Transmuted into the heart of the Ishvalan War at the age of thirteen, Sakura must learn to survive in Amestris as she is forced to participate in the genocide. With no where left to go after the war, she is adopted by Roy Mustang and must continue forward, trying to find a way home among the chaos of the military and the Elric brothers. Parental Roy!
1. Prologue

**Author's Notes**:

**And welcome to my little corner of the fanfiction universe! This is my first crossover fanfiction, so hopefully it goes well. Normally, chapters are longer than this as well and not so stream-of-consciousness. However, the first chapters are because everything is confusing for Sakura because she doesn't understand Amestrian at all and alchemy is confusing.**

**Summary: Transmuted into the heart of the Ishvalan War at the age of thirteen, Sakura must learn to survive in Amestris as she is forced to participate in the genocide. With no where left to go after the war, she is adopted by Roy Mustang and must continue forward, trying to find a way home among the chaos of the military and the Elric brothers. Parental Roy!**

**Thank you for reading And I do not, nor ever will, own Fullmetal Alchemist or Naruto.**

**Please remember to read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Prologue

* * *

~Sakura's POV~

Something pulled at my arm, startling me. I turned around for a second, peering back at the dull dirt covering the market street. People were lingering about, chatting aimlessly with each other on this lovely Saturday afternoon... but there wasn't anyone close enough to have even brushed by me accidentally. What had that been?

"Sakura?"

I paused, looking up at the sound of Ino in confusion. The sound had seemed to come from miles away, distant and muted. I must have just been tired from working the hospital shifts. Even though I wasn't even a chūnin yet, Tsunade-shishou wanted me working at the hospital to get accustomed to it. Get accustomed to all the death. But still, the exhaustion hadn't been this bad before.

I was just imagining things. That was it.

"I'm just tired," I insisted, rubbing at my eyes for emphasis. "Kami, I need some sleep soon or I'm going to fall over right here. Want to go get some ramen or something?" I smiled broadly, cringing internally as I realized I sounded like Naruto. Ino giggled; however, setting me at peace again. We quickly altered our course, heading towards Ichiraku's. I would never admit it, but their ramen was pretty amazing.

It had been almost a year hadn't it… a year since I'd seen Naruto, since Jiraiya had taken him away for special training. I couldn't help but wonder how he was doing, Naruto Uzumaki. He was-

The world tilted to the right, gravity seeming to lose its hold on me for a second. Why did it feel like I was floating? Why didn't it feel like my feet were touching the ground? "Ino," I nervously called, stopping in the street as I tried to recover my sense of which way was up. Why was the ground diagonal, sloping around me?

"Sakura?" Ino's voice was laced with urgency, her face swimming into my vision as she tried to assess what was wrong. I could already see her training beginning to kick in as she portrayed the typical medic calm that we all struggled to emulate. Apparently she had nailed it.

And then came the tugging, the sharp yanking on my arm. Something was urgently trying to garner my attention, its intensity increasing. I twisted around, trying to feel who was pulling me around in circles. But there was… no one. Something was yanking at my arms, pulling me away into the space, but I couldn't see it, couldn't find it.

It pulled me again, that strange invisible force, nearly dragging me off my feet. "Ino!" I yelled, stumbling in the direction of whatever it was. My inner equilibrium had been thrown off as I nearly crashed into a person walking by. "Ino?!" I heard feet running towards me, concerned shouting through muted ears. All I could do was call for her, hope that somehow she could help.

"Someone get the Hokage!" Tenten? Her voice was wavering, sound seeming to being distant, rapidly dimming. What was… what was happening? I felt something on my arm, the feel of cool hands holding me. Everything was slipping away into the darkness, disappearing without a trace. Faces blurred, lines bent out of proportion with messy crayon scribbles.

What was…What was going on? Where was this?

Why was the world tilted?

Everything was slipping away, faces, names, memories. I was vanishing bit by bit, being erased from the world slowly. I was losing myself.

"Sakura? Can you hear me? You have to tell me what's going on." What a lovely voice, characterized by the typical calmness of a nurse. I wondered if she was a nurse, judging by the practiced movements. I could feel fingers fluttering at my neck, searching my forehead for a temperature. The coldness was a sharp contrast against the blood rushing through my head in a roar.

"What… What's going on?" I asked, searching for answers from the kind voice. My balance was failing, legs collapsing underneath me. I crashed to my knees, bare skin digging into the dirt. I could barely feel the small rocks drawing blood along my legs. Sensation was disappearing, fingers twisting with numbness. My hand caught fabric; that much I could tell. Purple cloth slipped through my fingers as I let go, the strength leaving me arms.

"Sakura, can you understand me?" I blinked, dazed as my head reeled from… whatever that was. "Do you know what's going on?" I shook my head, denying knowledge. My hands flew to my arms, a new sensation ripping through me, previously absent.

Pain.

Blinding pain ripping through me. And Kami, why wouldn't it stop?!

"Make it stop!" I screamed out, finger nails digging into my skin as I tried to distract myself from the stinging. Something was tearing at my arms, shredding through them. And there was noise, the horrible sound.

Someone was screaming.

Blond hair flashed before my eyes before the world finally plunged, the dust becoming prominent in my limited line of vision. My face hit the street, hands scrabbling at the ground in search of some way to find a cure for the pain. Purple cloth over a pair of knees were in front of me, shadow draped over my face as she leaned over me.

"Tsunade-shishou, I don't know what happened. My scans haven't turned up anything, but there's…" The sound faded away, deafness invading my mind.

"Tsunade-shishou…" I whispered, not even able to hear myself whisper the name. A smile crept onto my face, the faceless name providing some comfort. And then something slashed through my chest, agony working its way along my nervous system. My back arched as I rebelled against the pain. I could feel the tears coursing down my cheeks as another scream worked its way from my throat.

Darkness filled my vision, blackness cutting off the purple cloth-covered knees. I reached out with my hand, reaching for something, anything to anchor me to this world. Something gripped my hand, pulling me away.

And then everything was gone.

* * *

Broken images flashed across my shattered vision, filing themselves away into my head. So much information compiled in my head that hadn't been that way before, continuing to jam itself into the limited space. But it just kept coming and coming, burrowing into the recesses of my mind, making more space, just always moving in. Too much! It was too much! Turn it off! Turn it off! Kami, what was going on? I didn't understand, the pain fracturing through my skull as another image tore across my eyes. It was system overhaul, nervous system stuck on spasm, stuck on, stuck on, stuck on. How did I shut it off?! How did I shut off the theory for things I had never even known about, circles, names, faces, screams and screams and screams and. It just kept going and going and going! How did I turn off the insanity, turn of the endless visions of failed experiments, of the severed parts, of the numbers and the words and the symbols and the papers and the circles and… Too much! Too much! Turn it off! Nothing made sense, languages that I couldn't understand filling my mind in a rush of incoherent sound. I couldn't shut it off, black it out, turn off the pictures and the… the… EVERYTHING!

It turned off.

* * *

"You can open your eyes, _Miss Ku-no-i-chi._"

I opened my eyes, blinking at the sharp brightness of... wherever I was. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the brightness, eyes watering from the intense difference in color. Pure whiteness was the only surrounding, marred only by the large door in front of me. My eyes were drawn to it, the large door marked by intricate symbols, ones I could vaguely recognize from what I'd seen in the madness.

"Where am I?!" I exclaimed, looking around wildly. Hadn't I just been shopping with Ino when… the tugging. Had it pulled me here?

"This is the Gate." My eyes flashed to what had spoke… whatever it was. It wasn't really a thing, more of an absence, an absence of solidity. I could see its outline, where skin melded seamlessly with shadow, darkness seeming to somehow radiate from the figure despite the blinding surroundings.

"Who are you?" I took a step backwards nervously, looking around for some sort of escape. Shit, who knew where I was? Where this endless snowfield was? Where was the cold? Or the snow for that matter? What was going on?

"I am what you call 'The world.' Or perhaps 'The universe.' Or perhaps 'God.' Or perhaps 'Truth.' Or perhaps 'Everything.' Or perhaps 'One.' And I am 'You.'" Its voice… it seemed to echo from every corner of the expanse. It was everywhere, seeming to explode inside my mind with the answer. I reeled back from the pure frankness of the answer. This… _thing_ seemed to think it was God. Wait…

"Kami?" I hazarded, the only being who this could possibly be. It nodded and I felt a nervous grin break out on my face. I was with Kami, with the most powerful being in the universe. It had summoned me here! I instantly fell to my knees, bowing my head to the ground. Oh Kami, why did it want _me_? "Forgive me for asking, Kami. But why am I here?"

"You are here to pay the toll for the Truth." I looked up in surprise, shock written on my face. "Get up off the floor, _Miss Ku-no-i-chi_." I nodded, doing as instructed. This was Kami? I couldn't help but stare at it in awe, watching the formless god. oh, how could I have not seen it before? Kami needed no form. No, it was better that Kami did not have a form, to show unity of the genders and the races within this one divine being. But it had spoken of a Truth. I had seen the Truth. The Truth to what? Peace? Immortality? Love?

"What Truth?" I asked, looking at it in confusion.

"What you just saw. That was the Truth of alchemy." I stared at it in disbelief. I hadn't wanted to see that, hadn't wanted the pure whirlwind of unbridled information shoved into my head. That was no Truth at all, just torture. Was the Truth... pain?

"What is the toll?" A smiled cracked on its face, its blank face. I don't know how it did it, how it was able to portray the image of smile when there was no real face for it to appear on. It was just floating between the shadows.

"You've already paid it." The smile turned to a smirk as it seemingly enjoyed its private joke.

"What?" There was a mess of black hands tugging at my skin, tugging at the very essence of me. "What's going on?!" One looped around my chest, moving to pull me backwards. Another looped around my stomach, my legs, every inch of me that there was.

"What do you want with me?!" One covered my mouth, pulling me backwards by the jaw, silencing any other remark I could make. I stared at the thing, eyes wide with fear. Was this truly Kami?

"Nothing yet, _Miss Ku-no-i-chi_."

Kami smiled.

* * *

~Ino's POV~

She'd been in agony, lying on the dirt of the street. The crowd was still gathered round, still staring. We were all staring, just staring at that spot. Where she had been lying, screaming. Where _Sakura_ had been lying, screaming.

All that was left was a blood puddle, slowly spreading, seeping into the dirt where it would remain for days. People would step on that spot and trample through the blood, carrying it with them throughout their lives. Carrying her blood.

All that was left was a puddle of blood.

And two arms.

Someone started screaming.


	2. Chapter 1: The Land of Fire

**Author's Notes:**

**Hello! ****And welcome to my little corner of the fanfiction universe! ********Alright, some major thank yous are in order. Please bear with me, it's a long list.**

******Thank you to _A Fool's Reflection,_ _Anonymous, Batang May Scolio, __Guest, honeyxtea, _****************_Infinity Starblazer, _**_kami in a box, Malthinae, ****************__Nazgul of xord, _**************_Sakura19Haruno95, _**_Serenade-Of-The-Insane, ****************__shisakurasinger, _the holy turd, **************_Twisted Musalih, _********_VampireHuntress72095, _********and **_********__****************__watermelon-shotput_**********************for reviewing!**

**************Thank you to _AlphaAtlas, __Angelic Sakura Blossom, Artemiskid, Batang May Scolio, bloodISmyFood, brokenmaelstrom, clueless. anime .fan, Clayr411, DarkEmpress192, delilah-smurple, Dinurs, DWM, honeyxtea, hukomuyo, iiDorkie, Infinity Starblazer, JABStrong, Malthinae, matthieu-williams, Meowth-Will-Eat-Your-BABIES, Narutofan3721, Nazgul of xord, nicklaren, Porcalein, Sakura002496, Sakura19Haruno95, sesshomaru-sama's lover, shisakurasinger, SilverStar56, Start. Again. Angel, TriumphantLoser, Twisted Musalih, VampireHuntress72095,__ watermelon-shotput,_**************** _xbLoOmZx, _and _Yuuki-Hime 2097_ for adding this to your Story Alerts!**

******Thank you to _Angela2202,_ _Angelic Sakura Blossom, Batang May Scolio, bloodISmyFood, clueless. anime .fan, DarkEmpress192, delilah-smurple, Infinity Starblazer, Malthinae, Meowth-Will-Eat-Your-BABIES, nicklaren, Sakura19Haruno95, shisakurasinger, SilverStar56, VampireHuntress72095,_ and_ xbLoOmZx _for adding this to your Favorite Stories List!**

******Thank you to all the people who supported this story! You are all wonderful and you can count that I will thank you every single chapter.**

**Summary: Transmuted into the heart of the Ishvalan War at the age of thirteen, Sakura must learn to survive in Amestris as she is forced to participate in the genocide. With no where left to go after the war, she is adopted by Roy Mustang and must continue forward, trying to find a way home among the chaos of the military and the Elric brothers. Parental Roy!**

**Thank you for reading And I do not, nor ever will, own Fullmetal Alchemist or Naruto.**

**Please remember to read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 1: Land of Fire

* * *

~Sakura's POV~

Acrid smoke assaulted my nose with an intensity similar to that of antiseptic at a hospital, waking me instantly. Smoke? Why was there smoke? _Fire, you moron. Now move or you'll be burned alive._ Inner Sakura was sarcastic with her wake up call, exhausted and confused. _Do you want to die?_

My eyes slammed open in the sudden realization, absorbing information quickly, trying to somehow register my location. This was new, nowhere I recognized. Where was I? "Hello?" I went to sit up, going to move my arms, going to somehow push myself up somehow. But nothing was responding. Strange... I couldn't feel my hands at all. Shouldn't they have been sore like the rest of my body?

Why weren't my arms moving? Why couldn't I feel them? I finally tilted my leaden head to the left and then discovered the answer.

They were gone.

Oh.

_"What is the toll?"_

They were gone. My arms were gone.

_"You've already paid it."_

Someone started screaming. The sound went on endlessly, panic and hysteria the ruling factor in the nearly animalistic noise. Higher and higher it spiraled, ripping through another octave, smoke spinning up into the sky to follow after the popped balloons. Why didn't the sound just stop? I got to my feet, flipping up using my stomach muscles. I didn't have hands to push myself up anymore. No hands.

Then I heard the other sound, the random jumble of gibberish coming from across the room. Tentatively, I turned towards the speaker.

He was dark skinned, his glasses and silver hair prominent features. Kabuto?! I stepped backwards, nervous, afraid, overwhelmed, lost, confused. He held up his hands in a placating motion, speaking more words in some language I couldn't understand. Why couldn't I understand?! Where was I?! Where was the fire and the burning?! Blood was rolling down the sides of his face from his ears, a possible sign that his ear drums had burst. But he didn't seem to mind, simply worried about the strange creature that had appeared in front of him.

"Where are my arms?! What did you do?!" The screaming stopped, breath coming in short gasps. Hyperventilation. Panic attack. I couldn't afford to lose it. I had to get out of here, get out... Why couldn't I get out?! Why was I trapped in this nightmare called reality! Where was Konoha and everything?! Hands shaking. Eyes flickering from side to side. What was going on? I couldn't understand, comprehend. I had to get out of here, get out...

Where were my arms?! Where were Konoha and Naruto and Kakashi-sensei and Tusnade-shishou and where were my arms?! I looked from left to right, trying to understand what was happening, trying to somehow accept the unacceptable reality that this wasn't Konoha. How could this be happening?! What had I done to make Kami punish me like this?!

"I'm sorry!" I screamed out, feeling tears drench my face, the only source of water in this infernal land of fire. They seeped into my skin, embedding themselves like scars. "I'm sorry! Make it stop!"

I looked down at my feet, discovering strange white intricacies and a wall of bare skin staring back at me. Clothes. Gone. Sense. Gone. Nothing but fire and madness staring back at me. Nothing to hide in.

I couldn't even cover up, couldn't hide from the embarrassment, from this unnamed man across the room. His eyes were wide, his hands reaching for his ears in what looked like surprise. And the screaming continued, endlessly droning on among the burning. I turned as I saw the white flash across the side of my vision. Kakashi-sensei? Someone I knew?!

Nothing was there. Nothing was there.

Nothing.

Was.

There.

Just the edges of my sanity playing tricks on me.

I closed my eyes, falling to my knees as I tried to retreat into the rubble. Could I disappear in the ground and never emerge again? Could I do that?! I lowered my head, trying to somehow block off this new torturous burning world. The smoke wasn't slowly filtering into the air. The screaming wasn't continuing. There was no one staring at me. This wasn't happening. What was going on?! What was happening?! Why was the world burning?! Why me?! "Help! Someone help! Please! Someone!" The desperation in my voice was evident, the hysteria even more so, but the fear was the most clear. I could feel tears dripping down my face, burning against the dust that had clung to me, clung to the small lifeboat of pale skin. Pale skin lying charred and dead against the dirt.

I wanted to just wash it off, wash off the stench of the smoke and the dust and blood and the-

Something touched me, a thousand explosions against my hypersensitive skin. The air was an aggravation as itself, the very feel of skin and cloth enough to set me off. I stumbled forwards, startled. The screaming started again, the sound seeming to echo from everywhere. Just like Kami's voice, seeming to emerge from the cracks until it filled the entire room.

I shook, toes twitching uncontrollably as they tried to bury themselves in the dust, to let the ground swallow me up so I could never see the sun again. Something was against my skin, rubbing up and down. Chafing up and down and up and down until it cut right to the bone.

I ran.

Stairs. I could deal with stairs. Stairs made sense. Stairs lead somewhere. Stairs were linear. Stairs didn't make sparks along my skin like this fire against my skin. What was this fire against my skin?! Why was I burning alive as I ran?! It was some sort of… poncho? I leapt up the wood stairs two at a time, running away from the sound of the gibberish. Too loud. Too loud.

I couldn't understand. I couldn't make sense of it.

Get away.

Get away from the madness.

Why was the world collapsing around me, the stairs twisting into spirals as I ran up and up and up? Where was the end?!

I got to the top of the stairs, whirling around, searching for an exit. A way out. A way out from the madness. A way out of the burning and the fire. From…WHERE WAS I?! Door! There was a door! My attention snapped to the portal of light, the slanted rectangle of freedom. I ran towards the door, coming out into the light. I blinked, blinded by the sunshine. The coursing heat raining down in streams of liquid agony.

More gibberish. I turned, finding a large man running towards me. He was shouting, mouth moving in foreign patterns. I couldn't understand. I couldn't make sense of it. Why did he look just like the one downstairs? And then his arms were around me, pulling me tightly to his chest. No! I didn't want to feel his rough skin against me! Rubbing and rubbing until it tore away the skin! Too much sensation! What was going on?!

Explosions.

Too much noise.

Too much sound.

Too much sensation.

Overload.

I couldn't. I just… I didn't.

I couldn't.

I screamed as the pain found its way through my back, searing away the sensitive flesh. Fire was racing across my skin, burning through the material to my very core. The world gripped at me, pulling me backwards into its flames. Tears worked their way from my eyes again, dropping on the man clinging to me like I was the sun. We hit the ground, sliding to the side. The dust ate at my skin, ate at my very existence like the black hands.

I could practically feel them, chaining me to this fate, dragging me back down into the dust and the fire.

Soft gibberish, soft words from him. The man who clung to him. The man who I clung to. The words were from him. Comforting. Soft against the harshness of the explosions and the fire. What was he saying? What did he mean? What was happening? Couldn't I help him? The fire in the air stopped, the explosions calming, moving elsewhere. I laid there for a second against the man's chest breathing in the acrid smoke of fire and death. Someone was screaming.

It wasn't just me.

I laid there for a long while, fading in and out as I tried to clear the dust and the debris from my lungs and my skin. But this world had already marked me as its own, gripped me with its fire and pulled me into the hottest parts of its hell. The dirt and the dust would never leave my skin. It would always be there, burrowed beneath my fingernails. I was still shaking, trying not to succumb to pure panic.

Small groan. The man was still alive, if only barely.

I could feel my healing chakra flowing through me, weak, but there. I forced it through my parched skin into this man, running cursory like taught. Don't think, just run the check. You don't have time to scream if someone is dying. It was harder without the familiar connection of my hands against his skin, but I would make do.

His face had been cut open by debris, blood coming from the wound profusely. He was groaning louder now, chapped lips parting to breathe. It seemed like his entire face was bleeding. Bleeding, just like everyone else in this godforsaken desert.

His arm.

His arm was gone.

We both had lost our arms now. Except he still had his other one. I had none.

No arms.

I pushed my chakra into him as fast as I could, knowing I had to move before the bombing started again. The fire could come back at any minute, lay waste to even more skin. I'd be unable to bring him with me, nothing to drag him along with, but I had to help him. He had saved me in a way, protected me from the fire with what he could.

A second later, I had done all I could manage without my hands. I had staunched the major bleeding with my limited chakra, helped spur the cells to divide faster, helped to remove the dust from the wounds. But that was all I could do. I couldn't do much more. "Be safe," I whispered, hoping that he would live, my savior.

I rolled away, out of the one remaining arm. The other was gone, disappeared into the sand. I looked up, finding him, the one who had seared fire into my skin, burnt me black. How had he done that, katon jutsu of some sort? The man in white and blue, standing there, black hair whipping around him in the desert breeze. Laughing. That was a sound I could understand, comprehend. I could understand sadism. He had caused this and he was laughing. But I didn't have time. I had to get out of here, find Konoha.

Find… Find something. Something I knew.

I ran and the laughing stopped as the man grew aware of my presence. Someone shouted, yelling after me as I stumbled across the rocks and the sand. Explosions rocked the world again as I dashed away. Simple commands, follow them. I could do that.

Run.

And I did. I ran like Naruto to Ichiraku's after a mission. Right. I had to get home. Had to have Ichiraku's with Naruto again. I could do that. I could ignore the quicksand pulling me backwards, pulling me down into the desert, into a grave. I couldn't stop running. I had to keep going. I reached the next obstacle, the hundred foot wall in front of me.

People had crowded around the base; screaming, crying, wailing. Just a never ending mass of sound. Sound that even I understood. I could make sense of this. Pain. It was universal, something that anyone could see in another. But I couldn't focus on them. I had to get out of there. I had to get home. I couldn't care about them. I couldn't care.

I couldn't notice that the boy to my left was missing his pinky and that it had become infected. His entire hand would have to be amputated if he wanted to live. I couldn't notice that the woman next to me was bleeding from her temple, that her eyes were unfocused, a sign of a concussion, maybe internal bleeding. I couldn't notice that all these people would probably die, burned alive in this fire.

I was a shinobi. Shinobi accomplished the mission.

Shinobi rule #25: Shinobi did not show emotion.

I was going to get the fuck out of here! I didn't have to stop and help every person I saw. I couldn't help everyone. I had to keep going, keep pushing myself so that I could find my way home. I couldn't die.

Climb.

Jumping, I applied chakra to my feet, running up the wall as quickly as I could. Sprinting towards the sky. The sound lulled as people watched me. I guess it wasn't common in this place, wherever this was. Where were the shinobi?! Were they responsible for this? That would have explained the explosions, the fire branding us all.

I reached the top, jumping over the wall into the endless sky. I closed my eyes for a brief second, allowing the wind to blow past me, blow away the hair that had been plastered to my face with blood. Someone else screamed this time. An entire sea of blue screamed. Blue clad bodies stood in sharp lines, shinobi in formation. I landed among them, turning around, looking for anyone recognizable. Anyone! Just someone! My feet were bleeding then, unused to the uneven surfaces without shoes.

"Help! Someone please help!" I turned around, looking for any sort of recognition. Their faces were young, blank. They could barely acknowledge that I was a person as they looked at me, most likely assuming I was one of those from inside, just another person who had to die. I caught a couple staring at my hair, the color unnatural even here. More gibberish. More sound.

I screamed, shaking my head in confusion. Where was I?! Why couldn't someone help?! What was happening?!

"Someone please help!"

Silence.

I stepped backwards in confusion. Why wasn't anyone answering me? Could they not understand me? Something touched my shoulder, a burst of fire. Hot metal in a hot sun in a hot land. Fire traced along my skin, cloth destroyed from the explosions. A miniature explosion erupted through me.

The blood spurted from my shoulder, drawing my eyes curiously. My shoulder jerked for instinctively, following the course of the projectile.

It took a second before I realized what had happened, that the explosion had gone through me. And then came the searing pain in my shoulder, the fire shrieking through my blood. More screaming, not just me. I leapt backwards into someone else, trying to connect the thoughts in my head. Why was the ground twisting under me? Who were they? Why were they attacking me?! I had to get away! Their metal sticks caused explosions. I couldn't outrun them, couldn't outrun the fire. Something whizzed by my head. I dove forward, arming my feet with chakra.

I'd have to fight my way out. I twisted, foot connecting with someone's arm. He flew at least twenty feet, landing in a haphazard heap on the dust. I'd felt something give beneath my foot, his humerus? I supposed that it didn't matter at the moment. More shots whizzed by me as I continued to duck and weave around them. perhaps I couldn't outrun them, but I could move around, dodge. A moving target was always harder than a stationary one. Another man went down, two ribs snapped as they gave way beneath my heel.

This was the first time that I had ever actually fought with chakra enhanced limbs. Was I doing it right? I couldn't even tell anymore. I could barely tell the faces from each other anymore. All that mattered was that I was faced with an enemy. And I had to get away. All that mattered was that this was effective. People around me were dropping even if I was running out of chakra. Shit! I could feel the sweat running down the back of my neck, the exhaustion filling my bones. Chakra exhaustion. I had to get out of here before I collapsed.

I panted, breath catching in my throat unevenly. My eyes were losing their focus as I stared at the people around me, eyelids growing heavier with each passing second. Sweat was dripping down my back, making the poncho and dirt cling to me. I swallowed, breathing in the dust and the smoke that wafted through the arid breeze.

Catching one last man in the stomach, I sent him back into two others. They caught him, but were thrown backwards as well by the sudden influx of weight I bolted, deciding it'd be better to take my chances in the village. At least I could find a house to hide in there. i could hide, try and outlast the firestorm and the explosions. I jumped, running up the wall as I panicked. I had to keep reminding myself not to put too much chakra into my footsteps lest I shoot myself back into the sea of shinobi.

I cried out as my left leg buckled beneath me, chakra disappearing in my shock. Pain exploded from my leg as I finally realized that something had hit me, torn its way through the unbranded flesh. Kunai? I couldn't even tell anymore. Couldn't even… I couldn't do anything anymore. Someone screamed and I was falling. Falling falling falling.

I hit the ground, lying broken on the bed of dust. I could barely move, pain permeating every bone in my body. I think something had snapped within me, the ribs painfully poking at my insides. Tears dragged themselves from my body, leaking out the corner of my eyes as if I was a pipe that was leaking, a random deficiency in the scope of things. A man leaned over me, a large frame with a single curl of blond hair on his head. Why was he crying as well? Was he… concerned for me? Was he in pain?

"Please, help me. Please… send me back," I begged irrationally. Could he send me back, free me from this nightmare? Did he have that power? I had never asked for this. Why? What had I done? He dragged me up, hands cradling me to his chest. The second time this had happened today. Large arms trying to protect me from the fire.

Why?

Why was this happening?

What had I done to deserve this?

This damn world had taken everything. I had paid in full, given everything I had to compensate. I had given it everything I could and it still wanted more. What else could I sacrifice to keep this world happy, satisfied? I had sold it my skin, let it burn it black until it was gone. I had sold it my arms for Truth. I didn't understand that trade, couldn't comprehend what truth really was. What was alchemy? I had sold it my bones, let it break them until I couldn't move any longer. What more did it want?!

More gibberish. More speaking around me as people spoke to each other. I didn't understand. Couldn't understand.

There was only one thing left that I could sell.

_"What is the toll?"_

"Kami!" I screamed, voice scratching at my dry throat. "I'll sell you my life! Just let me live! I don't want to die!" I was desperate, delirium beginning to set in. I didn't want to die, didn't want to leave behind an unmarked grave in the desert. No!

I was fading in out, verging on unconsciousness. Maybe if I let it pull me downwards, it would end. The quicksand could pull me downwards and then the earth could swallow me whole. I couldn't focus, senses tired from the constant overload of information. And then a new face swam into my vision, familiarity registering in my fading consciousness. I could see him, leaning down in front of me, his face peering towards me.

_"You have already paid it."_

"Sasuke-kun?"


	3. Chapter 2: Only a Child

**Author's Notes:**

**Hello! ****And welcome to my little corner of the fanfiction universe! Alright, thank yous are in order!**

**Summary: Transmuted into the heart of the Ishvalan War at the age of thirteen, Sakura must learn to survive in Amestris as she is forced to participate in the genocide. With no where left to go after the war, she is adopted by Roy Mustang and must continue forward, trying to find a way home among the chaos of the military and the Elric brothers. Parental Roy!**

**Thank you to _Anonymous, EdSaku, kami in a box, Malthinae, Royai_ (X 2), _Scarlett Winds, sesshomaru-sama's lover, VampireHuntress72095, xbLoOmZx,_ and william_ and jack and jake_ (X 2) for reviewing!**

**Thanks to _Allycat826, animelover171, Azn Lord, cheli hyuga, cutipieeva, DancingBigDaddy, Dezzy14, EmmettLover93, Hunter 152, Lil. Cat-chan, michiisyndrome, Okami Endless, ringo-nin, silversamjokgo, The Magus Killer, Venas_, and _weaseldale_ for adding this to your Story Alerts!**

**Thank you to _1oooyears, animelover171, asredwer, Azn Lord, balom, Helios Valhalla, Lil. Cat-chan, LoveMyself, matthieu-williams, Scarlett Winds,_ and _The Magus Killer _****for Favoriting this story!**

**Thank you for reading And I do not, nor ever will, own Fullmetal Alchemist or Naruto.**

**Please remember to read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 2: Only a Child

* * *

~Roy 's POV~

A shadow crossed my face, making me look up suddenly in surprise. The only thing that could cause a shadow was a bird. And birds didn't fly in Ishval anymore. Not that they ever really had, but now they knew to stay away from the desolate land. It was as if they could sense the blood soaking the earth, the carnage that we had scattered across the desert.

But what had caused the shadow, the brief flicker of desirable shade?

Hughes followed my gaze, turning to the… girl? What the hell was a girl doing here, in our camp? How had she even gotten here? We barely heard her land, small clouds of dust rising around her feet. She had landed among the sixth division, whirling around in evident confusion, eyes wide, breathing quickly in telltale signs of panic. It was no wonder considering she had just escaped the bombing. But how had she even gotten out? That wall was at least a hundred feet high! It would have taken hours to scale and she simply did not have enough time to reasonably do that.

The girl looked lost, chin-length pink hair matted to her face with sweat, grime, and blood. Pink hair? I had never seen a rarity like that, even in Ishval. And Ishval was full of wonders that I had never seen before. Dirt and blood smudged her cheeks in macabre art, a sign that Kimblee's explosions had reached even her. She was still whipping around, eyes large with childhood naivete and hope. Did she not understand that we were here to kill her along with the rest of Ishval? Did she not understand what we had done?

What I had done?

Her back was raw, the back of her clothes burned away to leave it exposed to the biting air. Her skin was red, seared away in patches where Kimblee had marked her with death and infection. The skin was blistered and burnt, covered in dirt and sand from where she'd fallen backwards no doubt.

They always fell to the ground at the sight of fire. They knew by now what it meant. Amestris had come.

It was time to die.

This had to be Kimblee's work, the burns and the blood. She'd been caught in the explosions inside of the town along with the rest of the Ishvalans. She was just another victim of this massacre, broken beyond recognition in this heat. It was just another evidence of what we did, what we did to innocent kids. She was what, twelve? thirteen? Old enough to realize that she was going to die, but not old enough to know why. We were fucking disgusting.

But her arms. They were gone, clean stumps still dripping blood onto the sand. My eyes quickly cataloged the little I knew. Still bleeding, recent. Most likely had resulted in heavy blood loss. She'd have to be careful or they'd get infected (not like it really mattered since she'd be dead in a minute or so). But the edges weren't jagged enough for them to be from the explosions. Cleanly severed as if they had just vanished into the air. I recognized those wounds, done enough guilt-tripped research into to know what had happened.

"Human transmutation," I whispered, feeling Maes tense next to me at the revelation. His eyes slid over towards me, thoughtful expression turning serious with the words. Even he knew how serious a matter it was. He knew. I knew. We all knew by now. We'd already had one alchemist crack and try to bring back someone he'd killed.

The mangled remains of a human were all that remained beside his corpse. They said after the autopsy that his heart had just vanished. It simply wasn't there anymore. Gone. Like it had never existed in the first place.

"You don't really think someone as young as her could do human transmutation, do you?" Maes lowly inquired, briefly glancing around to make sure no one was listening in on our conversation. If word got out that the Ishvalans had alchemists, who knew if the war would ever end? And she hadn't actually done anything yet. She was still just standing there, turning around.

Maes looked to me, confusion shining through his glasses. There weren't many people who could claim the feat of human transmutation. Period. But to do it as a child? It would have been near impossible. No, she couldn't have. But how then? Why did she show clear signs of human transmutation?

"She was involved somehow," I murmured back, watching her with a unique interest. She had successfully survived human transmutation at least even if she was missing arms. That was something that people never saw. No one survived human transmutation from what I'd studied. No one. "Perhaps she was the bargaining chip. Someone tried to sacrifice one person to bring another back," I reasoned, eyes watching the pink head bob aimlessly around the new recruits.

She was turning around in circles, feet drawing shapes in the dust as she spun. She was looking at everyone in confusion, searching each face for something. But nothing seemed to hold what she was looking for. It was as if she genuinely didn't know where she was. "Major Mustang, should we shoot her?" someone finally shouted at me as they continued to watch. In truth, she should have been dead the moment she landed, but this batch was still green. They didn't know how to kill yet. They were too filled with young hope and idealism. Might as well preserve it. I would kill the girl if I had to.

My soul was already stained with blood and fire.

I finally stood, staring at the confused girl. She had not yet noticed me, too preoccupied with those immediately surrounding her. "Not yet," I called back easily, trying to calm them with a relaxed tone of voice. I motioned to Hughes, watching him stand with limited amusement. While this was a welcome break from the monotony of the endless desert, a lost girl landing among the brand new sixth division was not what we had hoped for.

And then she screamed, startling us all with the noise. She was losing it, terrified and alone. It was clear she didn't understand the situation. She legitimately didn't understand what was going on. The new soldiers cocked their guns nervously, holding them at the ready. But their hands shook, betrayed their fear of this unknown threat. They'd been trained to kill for Ishval, but they had never actually been blooded before.

Shit.

At the next sound she made, they'd fire for sure. They were skittish, conflicted by the well known stories of Ishvalan savagery and Amestrian honor as well as the mostly untold stories of Amestrian cruelty and Ishvalan refugee camps. It was rare for those rumors to make it beyond the military. It was best to keep the public uninformed about that. But the soldiers knew. And those soldiers were the ones aiming the guns at her. She kept going, screaming in what seemed like agony. She was seemingly unaware of the dangers, unknowing of how she was damning herself to death. And she just kept going, kept spitting words and sound at us. She spoke, screamed at us, but it was not a language I understood. No one really seemed to.

This was foreign to us.

This was not Ishvalan.

"Major Mustang?!" A panicked voice looked for affirmation as the soldiers turned to me. They didn't know what was happening, didn't know how to respond to this. This wasn't what they had enlisted for. She wasn't Ishvalan. They were sent here to kill Ishvalans, not other foreigners. What the hell was she doing here? If they shot, it could start another war with wherever she was from. And right now we couldn't afford that.

But if she wasn't Ishvalan... How had she gotten in there? And how had she gotten out?

"Hold your fire! She's not Ishvalan!" I shouted back, moving closer to the area quickly. I had to get this under control before the situation spiraled out any farther, before someone actually did kill her. I could barely see her through the mass of bodies around us. The soldiers' crisp lines had shattered after she had landed, people running every which way. They had broken rank to surround her, to watch her.

And then I heard the gunshot. A bang that ripped through the deafening silence that had so briefly descended. Someone had shot her. I shook my head, cursing under my breath at the sheer thoughtlessness of people. Maes sighed beside me, his tired eyes closing briefly in recognition. She was dead and we didn't even know where she had come from. What if someone had started another war.

It was a few seconds before I heard the yelp of pain followed by the sight of a body going flying.

What? What had sent him away like that, hurtling through the air like a training dummy met by one of Armstrong's fists? What could-

More gunshots went off, aiming towards the center of the circle. The center? The girl?! How?!... The child wasn't dead. Far from it. I could see her moving, almost as if she was blurring between the men at unreasonable speed. Oh shit, why wasn't I going to like this? I could see her, jumping, dodging the bullets with what seemed like practiced ease. Why was she here? Could it be that she actually _was_ an Ishvalan of some sort?

But no! That wasn't possible. She couldn't be!

And then she tore off again, sprinting back towards the village in a mad attempt at escape. Could it really be that she was with the Ishvalans? Had my judgment been wrong? It didn't seem like it was. It seemed like she had done nothing wrong. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, a victim in this war. But then again nothing in this war was what it seemed like.

Two months ago, half of us had to be removed because the Ishvalans had gotten to our water supply and poisoned it. Three weeks ago, Jenkins had been blown up by a child carrying a bomb. Two days ago, Smith opened a food crate and was shot by an Ishvalan hiding inside. I learned not to take anything at face value.

And then we figured out how she'd gotten over here. How was she doing that?! It defied all the laws of gravity, broke so many rules that alchemists pledged themselves by. How?! She was literally running up the side of the wall, bloody feet pounding out a rhythm as she sprinted for safety in the village. She sped along, constantly having to check her balance as she tried not to fall. And she was just... running and running.

That was, until she was shot. Hawkeye was right on the mark just as always. She'd gotten the leg; not a kill shot, but the girl certainly wouldn't be running anywhere anytime soon.

Someone screamed.

It was a twenty foot fall at least. With no cushion at the bottom to save her from the pain. I couldn't look as she hit the ground, waiting instead for the thump that accompanied a falling body or a charred corpse. The sound did not disappoint, the body slamming into the ground with a shout of pain.

"Armstrong!" I turned, seeing General Fessler walking towards the scene, choosing to make his presence known now that the immediate danger was over. Bastard. Just sat back in his tent until everything was over. At the moment, he was hiding beneath the wide brim of his hat, glaring at the heat. his eyes were narrowed, observing the child on the ground. She was gasping for air, probably in agony from broken ribs. It was a wonder she was still functioning.

"Kill the child," he ordered, voice the only cold thing in this desert. We all knew how dangerously close to breaking Armstrong was, the effect that this glorified murder was having on his mind. He wasn't the only one cracking under the pressure, but at the moment, he was the closest to a complete breakdown. Still, to be tested like this in public and by the general no less. He had to pull it together fast or-

"I can't kill her."

I moved forward, pushing past stunned privates, watching Armstrong's treason. Hughes following close behind, his mouth moving quickly as he cursed beneath his breath. And then Armstrong finally came into view, huge frame dwarfing the small girl in his arms.

Fuck.

Tears were freely streaming down his cheeks, leaving clean trails against the wall of dust that had accumulated against his skin. Eyes wide and flashing between the limp girl in his arms and the general in front of him, it was clear that he had simply lost it. He couldn't take the murder and the desert anymore. He didn't seem to care who was looking as he clutched her to him.

The girl was murmuring lowly to herself, words slipping past her lips to be lost to the acrid air of Ishval. No one could understand, could help her. She was losing herself to delirium, her lips continue to form words. _Kill her now, Armstrong. She won't feel anything._ I sighed at my thoughts, glaring at the ground. When had I become so practiced with death to know how to kill with the least pain?

And in the end, would this really save Armstrong?

Killing until he was numb to it.

Snap.

There went another life. Numb.

"I order you to kill her, Major Armstrong. Now," Fessler growled out, eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. It was impossible to tell if he was really glaring, eyes hidden in the shade of his cap. He stressed the rank, establishing the hierarchy in the camp. He wanted this done, wanted the girl and the negative effects she was having gone and over with.

And then Armstrong lost it, not even able to make a sound as he sobbed. his chest heaved, his shoulders shaking as he clutched her to him tighter. Tears streaked from his eyes, continuing to break the harsh layer of dust that had caked on his cheeks.

"How can you be so cruel?! She's only a child!" he yelled, words sticking in his throat like congealed blood. _Her_ blood was running across his hands, dripping through his fingers onto the sand.

"Fuck!" Fessler cursed to himself, single word carrying across the desert breeze easily. "Mustang, kill her!" he finally decided, throwing up a hand in exasperation. I blinked after a second, surprised to be called out like that. I could feel Maes tense next to me, his nervousness radiating towards me. Fessler knew, I did my work, killed my quota, never put up a fuss. Why was he doing this to me, making me kill even more? Perhaps I was just serving as an example. But… I couldn't kill a child that Alex was holding like that.

Shit.

That was what Fessler wanted. For me to kill the girl and Armstrong. Make an example of insubordination. He wanted to kill me Alex.

No... How was I going to get out of this? Like hell was killing an Amestrian, especially not Armstrong. And Alex was screwed unless we could somehow figure out how to separate him from the girl... Or we could just save her. And after seeing her fight like that? There was only one thing I could do in this situation.

"General Fessler, sir, with all due respect," I began, trying to at least get the point out there before he tried to kill me as well. I could see his eyes narrowing, clearly already not liking where this was going. More insubordination was not part of the plan. "Would it not be better to keep her and have her fight for our side? You saw her abilities from your tent." He blinked, either ignoring or completely missing the subtle jibe to his status. However, I could see his eyes widen in satisfaction at the prospect of having a weapon like her. I could see the gears turning in his head, the idea taking root as he imaged the girl at a weapon. If she had been able to destroy the sixth division like she did with no hands, we could only theorize what it would be like if we armed her with prosthetics.

Fessler nodded for me to continue, watching the girl hungrily. Good, he was buying it. That meant that I wouldn't have to kill Alex more likely. "She's obviously not an Ishvalan based on her clothes and her lack of protection. Any native would know to keep themselves covered in this heat and yet all she's wearing is a poncho." That was an obvious sign that she wasn't Ishvalan. We'd already lost too many men to brutal heat and wind of the deserts. But any native knew to keep covered up, hide from the scalding sun so that it wouldn't burn as much. But she was completely exposed, not even bothering with shoes. She had to be overheating quickly. "She doesn't know their language and doesn't seem to know who we are either. She is clearly not in league with the Ishvalans. We can use her as a weapon to our advantage."

Fessler actually stopped and looked at me for a second before nodding. he was smiling, undoubtedly imagining the glory he would get from his superiors for finding such a weapon. Anything to gain the upper hand on the Ishvalans would be welcomed easily. "Alright, Mustang, then you're in charge of her. Take her to Marcoh and you better hope for your own hide that she doesn't die on the way there." Now that he had the weapon, Fessler was already making moves to protect it, threatening those who might scratch its paint.

And then the girl, the weapon, was shouting, screaming out words that I couldn't recognize, no one could recognize. She was crying, clearly delirious as she probably begged for something to save her. But in Ishval, nothing would be able to save her. We were just as trapped as she was. We all watched her, eying her with a sense of worry. This went beyond immoral. Turning a child into a weapon? But what was the other option, kill her? If she wanted to live, this was all we could do.

And this lack of ability was what worried people the most. We had no choice in this. We had to watch her die here in Ishval.

We had all been sucked into this, blindly obeying the military, forsaking our morals. Killing. Killing. Killing. Now we were just killing her. How was it any different? Why did she matter? We were all doomed to this. But she? She was going to be raised on this. This was going to become her entire life. And we had no choice but to watch.

We were powerless.

"Take her to Marcoh, Mustang."

Snap.

There went another life.

I nodded, smartly saluting to Fessler before moving to Armstrong and the girl. She had quieted briefly, blinking as she tried to focus on the world around her. "Get up, Armstrong," I lowly hissed as I squatted down to get at the girl. He was frozen as well, stuck in the position as he tried to protect her. "I saved her life so get up!" I whispered a little louder, noticing that Fessler was beginning to retreat to his tent. Good. I could see Alex look up, wide eyes hopeful at the prospect of saving the girl.

"Sasuke-kun?"

I looked down at the girl for the first time, surprised to see her still conscious. Her voice came out timidly, shaking with surprise. She seemed scared for the first time, her large eyes staring up at me, shining with irrationality. She was clearly unaware of what was going on. But that didn't last long as the light was swept from her eyes and she fell into unconsciousness. I gently pried her from Armstrong's grasp, holding her lightly in my arms. She was light, barely seeming to weigh anything in comparison to our packs.

"Captain Hughes, escort Major Armstrong to the medical tent with me as well. I want to get him checked for any signs of exhaustion." Maes nodded, understanding that I wanted to talk privately with them as we walked. We would get at least a little more privacy away from Fessler's tent. And this was something we definitely needed to discuss.

Armstrong slowly lumbered up, shaking the dirt off his large figure. people began looking away, offering the compassionate alchemist a little privacy. Truth was, people loved Alex Armstrong for his sentimentality and his compassion. It was rare to find it in Ishval so people tended to cling to where they could find it. Alex had made innumerable comrades in the war and they respected him for it.

"Easy there, Armstrong," Hughes lightly intoned, trying to lighten the mood as the soldiers around us pranced from foot to foot like nervous mares. The situation was strange and it set them all on edge, especially as many tried to tend to their friends. The ranks were in shambles, order completely abandoned. But for the moment, it would have to go ignored.

"I want the wounded sent to sick bay as soon as possible! One person goes with every man down. The rest of you, stay here and make sure that no strays like this one get out. Shoot anything that comes out of there except for Kimblee and the others. Understood?" I shouted, trying to make some semblance of organization among the soldiers now that they'd fallen to disarray. Order made things easier.

"Yes, sir!" I was met by the shout of one hundred men, followed by their salutes. I grimly nodded to them, unable to salute with the girl in my arms. She shuddered, undoubtedly sleeping poorly. But we would take care of her as much as we could. No doubt about that. She didnt' deserve this and everyone realized it.

If I saved one man during this war.

It would be her.

"Hughes, let's go."


	4. Chapter 3: The Men in Blue

**Author's Notes: **

******Hello all my lovelies! ****And welcome to my little corner of the fanfiction universe! Some major thanks are in order!**

**********Thanks to _A Midsummer, Agrond, DancingBigDaddy, Guest, Haze Be It, kami in a box, Royai, Scarlett Winds, Twisted Musalih, VampireHuntress72095,_ _vampiremisress96_, and_ xbLoOmZx_ for reviewing!**

**********Thanks to _Ace Clover, Affirmative. Agrond, Negative, flixostix, seeds of war, Incandescent. mind, LoveMyself _************************_Sasu-cakes137,_ and** **********_vampiremisress96 _for Following this story!**

**********Thanks to _Ace Clover, Agrond, _************Asian Panda, ************_flixostix, Haze Be It, Ignisha, L. M. D. A. A, missblackrose123, Sasu-cakes137,_ and_ summeraquaria_ for Favoriting this story! You guys are wonderful.**

******Summary: Transmuted into the heart of the Ishvalan War at the age of thirteen, Sakura must learn to survive in Amestris as she is forced to participate in the genocide. With no where left to go after the war, she is adopted by Roy Mustang and must continue forward, trying to find a way home among the chaos of the military and the Elric brothers. Parental Roy!**

**Thank you for reading And I do not, nor ever will, own Fullmetal Alchemist or Naruto.**

**Please remember to read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 3: The Men in Blue

* * *

~Sakura's POV~

Fire.

Why was there fire?

What was burning? People? Was this what a burning human was supposed to smell like?

I could smell it, the smoky tone attacking my groggy senses as I tried to pull myself from the darkness, gripping at my lungs in a death embrace. It seemed like the harsh smoke would never fully extricate itself from my lungs, clear itself away from the oxygen. My lungs were burning. I breathed deeply, trying to wash away the smoke with clearer air, trying to actually breathe rather than choke down the air in desperation. The smoke finally disappeared with a last smile, almost seeming to whisper, _"Very soon, I'll see you again, Sakura. Very soon. Very soon." _The smoke would be back. It would clog my lungs again. And then it would kill me.

Wait, there was smoke. Why was there smoke?

Smoke? Smoke? Was Konoha on fire? Was Konoha burning?

What was burning?

Where was the fire?

Why was there fire?

My mind was sluggish, struggling to catch up to the demanding presence of the fire. Fire... What was... what was going on?

I briefly cracked open my eyes, exposing myself to the light. Too much light. Too much sensation to handle. I closed them immediately, letting out a light groan. It was the middle of the day, sun shining down directly on my face. My eyes were covered with haze, senses still dragged down by the heavy weights of unconsciousness. And yet, I'd somehow managed to stay down until now... Oh Kami, what had happened? Where was I? What was going on? What was...

Sound breathed through the space easily, flitting among the cots around me. Beds lined up in rows, figures laying down on them, moaning and speaking lowly to each other. The sound moved easy, carried fragments of conversations back towards me. The distant sounds of an explosion boomed through the tent, followed by screaming. Screaming. Something, s_omeone_, was in agony. And voices, voices were talking so close. Why couldn't I understand the way their mouths moved, the words that they spoke? Where was I? What was…

And then it came flooding back.

The fear, the pain, the explosions, the faces, the screams, the pain, the blood, the dust, the dirt, the people, and the pain. My eyes burst open, ignoring the painful sunlight that streamed into the tent. I had to know what was going on, what was happening, how long until the fire reached us. Where were the explosions?! I could feel the cottony texture under my stomach. I was in a bed. Sterile bed in the midst of dirt. Med-tent. Medical tent? Why was I here? We had to get out of here! The man in blue would come!

Just like all the other men in blue.

The ones lying around me.

I was in the home of an enemy, nestled in among the heart. Had they saved me just to kill me?

Someone was screaming. The other voices increased in pitch, worried and angry and scared. Oh Kami, I didn't want to die! I didn't want to die! To escape death and then just get dragged back to hell's gate. The Gate. Wherever that was. With Kami. I didn't want to go back. I sucked down air, trying to release another siren in panic. "I sold you my life! How could you kill me now?! Kami!" I screamed back at the sky, trying to rationalize with the force that had stuck me here.

I coughed, expelling dirt from my dry mouth in a small cloud. The noise cut off, the screaming dying within the wake of the arid breath. Damn it. I breathed in quickly, trying not to panic as my breathing rate went up and up and up into hyperventilation. But each breath tore at my throat, making me cough again. My throat felt cracked like the desert, parched and arid from lack of water. I could practically feel the sandy texture crawling down my throat, the dust clinging to the inside of my throat. Despite my sharp senses, my body felt leaden and unresponsive. I felt lethargic, exhausted after a good day's workout. Not that yesterday- _How long had I been asleep?_- had been a workout, more like a run for my life until I collapsed.

And then wound up here.

What had I done? What had I done to deserve this?

Who was… A face swam into view, concerned and wise. I could barely make anything out, still blind from opening my eyes too suddenly, from the ever present panic. No, I couldn't panic. I had to figure this out. Why was I here? There had to be a reason. He tried to speak, but his words were incomprehensible just like everything else. Nothing made sense. Why was I here if they wanted to kill me?

But I needed help. I couldn't exactly escape like this and I would die if I didn't get taken care of.

"Help, please," I croaked out, realizing how dry my throat was, how dehydrated really was. Oh Kami, I was weak and defenseless and at their mercy. What did I do? There were more words as he raised a glass to my mouth, gently pouring water in it. Just a small amount. Too much and I'd be unable to handle it. I drank it up greedily, coughing as it washed down the dryness of the desert.

Water. I had never realized how much I loved water.

And he was giving it to me.

He wasn't trying to kill me.

"Marcoh." At the word, the man looked up sharply, his eyes narrowing as he took in whoever had spoken. The word was his name then? A greeting? His response indicated it was one of the two at least, though I was so exhausted that I could have been making false assumptions. At least he had taken care of me.

At least he hadn't killed me.

I was grateful for that much.

I turned to see the nearing presence, the man who had called out to one of my saviors. The man walking towards me was a familiar face that wasn't as familiar as I had thought in the haze of yesterday. The man who I'd confused with Sasuke in my delirium was probably ten years older than the real Sasuke, though he was certainly just as handsome. His sharp black eyes were taking everything in, snapping around the tent for signs of danger much like Sasuke always did. He was alert, though he seemed to look downright hostile at the moment. His eyes were on fire, his glare seeming to set the very tent on fire.

It was him. The one who had set the world on fire. This had to be the man.

His face was lined with dust and dirt, smudges lining his right cheek and the left side of his chin like Mother Earth's finger paint. His black hair was flecked with soot, dusted with a grey that made him look far too old. The onyx mane was tangled and abandoned for the time being, but it didn't look like he really had noticed it lately. It didn't look like he'd noticed a lot about himself lately. The pride in his face showed that he probably cared about his appearances, but he hadn't been able to lately. Something had taken precedence.

The fire had become the only thing left in his soul.

That was all he had left to cling to in this desert. His fires. His flames. Everything else around him must have burned away beneath his fingertips. The only thing he had left to cling to was his fire. Everything else was gone.

All that was left was to burn.

And he had that tiredness that Sasuke had, though this man certainly showed it more openly. His eyes, though alert, were haunted with images of too much death and destruction, they showed too much fire, too much burning. Dark rings lined his eyes, his sharp and jerky movements holding the manic features of insomnia and desperation. He seemed to be easily startled, every little movement making his head twitch so he could see it. He showed the signs of worry and anxiety, his thumb and his middle finger rubbing together in what seemed like unconscious movements. Little coping mechanisms. Much like the ones Sasuke had begun showing near the end. Before he had…

His blue uniform was slightly mussed, the neck unbuttoned to leave a little room for air to flow. The tan coat that billowed around it was dirtied with soot, evidence of his recent work. He smelled of fire, the smoke drifting around him lazily. _"I told you that I'd be back. Very soon. Very soon." _It coiled around his feet, shying away from his fiery fingers. Fire was always burning around him, as if the very air combusted upon touching his skin.

"Marcoh," the name came up again and the original man who had taken care of me nodded. That was probably his name then. My eyes had finally adjusted allowing me to see the head of black hair and shocks of white right in front of his ears. His eyes were tired, revealing stress lines from too many patients, too many hours spent here in the medical tent.

"Marukō-san?" I quietly asked, wondering if they had even reached the doctor's ears. But the gibberish stopped at my words, all movement in the tent stopping at my words. A sheet was drawn, disconnecting the world and the tiny room that had now been drawn up. And then more word s flowed out, directed at me this time. It was some effort at communication, to connect with me. But I still couldn't understand a word of it, lost in the trail of conversation. So much. I couldn't comprehend what they were saying, what they were implying. I shook my head in denial at understanding and could their small murmurs of what sounded like affirmation. But hell if I knew.

I gently turned, trying to fight the returning waves of panic as I shifted leaden muscles. I awkwardly pullied myself into a sitting position, Marukō-san's hands braced around my shoulders to help. I finally sat up, head reeling at the sudden shift in equilibrium. Marukō-san watched me with concern, showing his medical background in his fussy movements.

Only now did I see the man that had come in with the Sasuke look-a-like, the man who was the smoke of his fire. The lingering effect, though certainly just as effective. He also showed a certain tiredness, his eyes rimmed with bruise dusting behind his glasses. Lines surrounded his eyes as if he'd drawn them on with pencil. A single lock black hair drooped into his face, too exhausted to stay upright. I could see the seriousness reflected in his position easily, his stance rigid and refined to be a guard. He wore the same uniform, that same sickly blue that tried too hard to match the sky, indicating his affiliation. The only difference was that he had one of those metal sticks strapped to his back.

_Something touched my shoulder, a burst of fire. Hot metal in a hot sun in a hot land. Fire traced along my skin, cloth destroyed from the explosions. A miniature explosion erupted through me. __The blood spurted from my shoulder, drawing my eyes curiously. My shoulder jerked for instinctively, following the course of the projectile. _

I flinched away from it, closing my eyes as I tried not to remember getting hit.

And then I registered the last man sleeping on the cot next to mine. He lay on his back, seeming relaxed, but it was easy to see he was unconscious. His large frame and single blond curl of hair identified him as my savior, the man who had rescued me from the quicksand of the desert. His face was weary, but lax and peaceful in his dreaming state. He didn't look to be wounded, his large muscles devoid of any bandages. So why was he here then?

And where was here exactly?

* * *

~Roy's POV~

"Marcoh, I can take it from here. I'm to see what I can get from the-" I paused as I heard the girl whisper from our left, fighting to speak a language foreign to her. So she was finally awake, after being unconscious for almost a week? Six days she'd been gone, wandering off in a dreamland stupor that most of the soldiers envied. Anything to get away from the battlefield. Not that I blamed her with injuries like that. Her entire back had been torn open. Shot through the shoulder and the leg. And her arms. Couldn't forget those two missing arms. The only signal that she was part of human transmutation.

And now I'd finally be able to tell Fessler something good.

"Marukō-san?" Her voice was quiet, timid in nature. Or at least, it was in the uncertain surroundings. Earlier she'd been screaming apparently, so I could only assume that was part of it to. Only now did I really get a look at her as Marcoh moved to help her sit up. She was shaking the entire time, muscles straining to lift her as she flinched at the unknown touch.

Her bubblegum hair was dotted with dirt and blood, reaching her shoulders in length. Pink hair. I still couldn't get over the fact that it was natural. Marcoh had seen there was no trace of hair dye yet. Her face showed signs of Ishval's wear, streaked with dust even during her sleep and black rings beneath her eyes indication that her dreamland had been far less wonderful than I had anticipated.

Her entire torso was wrapped in bandages, a criss cross of white streaks holding the angry red burned skin together, while trying to keep the dirt out. Truth be told, the bandages could never keep the dust out. The dust found its way everywhere. Her arms had been heavily bandaged up, blood caking the bandages across the stumps. We simply didn't have enough to go around or the personnel require to keep changing the bandages on a regular basis.

Someone had generously donated a pair of military-issued pants and a tank top for her to wear, the pants tied up by a length of rope. They were still too large however, so they'd been cuffed at least once on her right leg. And the wide dimensions of the pant had left her to swim and get lost in them. It made her look small and lost, not that she wasn't. It was just that she exacerbated the fact to such a point that we all noticed it. The left leg had been hiked up so that the bandages could be seen around the calf. Hawkeye had done her job well, brought her down without serious injury so we could interrogate her.

My eyes moved back to her face to find her already looking at me. She was observant, eyes like a bird as she tracked my movements with her eyes. She knew she was in danger and like hell was she letting the most dangerous man in the room out of her sight. It was almost like she knew. She knew that I was going to be the one to kill her. Her eyes were piercing, more so now that she fully realized who I was. Pulling up a chair, I tried to ignore Alex's form behind me. He was still asleep, not realizing what was happening around him. The girl he had tried so hard to save, the girl he had basically thrown away his military career for was finally awake.

And he was asleep.

I could see Hughes shaking his shoulder, trying to somehow get him to wake up. Maes finally hissed in his ear, trying to alert him to the magnitude of the situation. Alex made various noises as he woke up, clearly protesting against his violent tug from dreamland- or maybe the consequence of another nightmare. He groaned as he was roused from unconsciousness, his eyes blinking open.

"What's going on?" he asked, finally realizing that he was no longer sleeping in the dirt, but was in the med-tent. It always took patients that second to realize they were safe, that they were no longer in the zone of fire. "Where are we?" he asked, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. Nightmare most likely then. He was already awake and alert, even if he was confused. Hughes whispered to him quietly, before finally pointing out what was happening.

"Roy Mustang," I iterated slowly, staring at the girl intently. Her eyes narrowed for a second, confusion clouding her features. "Roy Mustang," I repeated, pointing to myself so she understood I was giving my name. I saw realization dawn on her face as she became aware of what was happening, what I was saying to her. She nodded in understanding, her eyes smiling a little as she latched onto something she could identify with. I could see her repeating the name in her mind as she tried to remember it, etch it into her memory banks.

"Sakura Haruno," she finally said, nodding her head in inclination that that was her name. It's not like she could point at herself. But I understood. That was her name. Sakura Haruno. Xingese? A Xingese name? Why the hell was she here then?

"Xingese," I told Maes, keeping an eye on her in my peripheral. I could see Hughes's face light up in understanding as he realized why her words had sounded so familiar. It was a language we had grown up hearing from immigrants, but had never really learned. Sakura was watching us curiously, trying to somehow grasp what we said despite the evident language barrier. "She's Xingese. What the hell is she doing here?" I mused to myself with a confused whisper. Hughes stood at my side, anxiously watching her as well. There was something going on here and neither of us knew how to deal with it. "Hughes, can you find me a translator. Any level, doesn't matter. I need to get past the language barrier."

"Yes, Major," he responded, aware of the eyes on us, eyes that were wary of our friendship. Hughes saluted sharply, his eyes flashing in a warning before he pushed open the tent flap, abandoning me to the stares of the Xingese girl. Alex was still watching on in shock, too surprised at the reality of the girl he'd saved. Sakura's green eyes were wise, but betrayed her inner panic as she struggled to cope with this outlandish situation she'd been thrust into. This was a strange situation for all of us.

And what was I supposed to do with her when I couldn't even communicate with her? How was she supposed to act as a weapon if she couldn't even accept her orders?

The two of us watched each other warily, sizing each other up. Her eyes were distrusting, but she seemed to be warming up to us. She must have been so confused, wondering whether or not we were going to kill her. Or rather, she would be able to kill us? I could already tell that she had fighting experience. It was evident in the way that she had held herself against the soldiers in the skirmish three days ago. She knew when she was winning and she knew when to retreat. And at such a young age too.

Her posture showed a militaristic rigidity, her back tense as she watched me. But that didn't stop her quiet musings.

"Roi Masutangu-san…" she intoned quietly to herself, adding the unnecessary vowel to the end. Her eyebrows were knitted together for a brief second in frustration as she made the effort to pronounce the complicated words.

"Mustang," I repeated, exaggerating the motions with my mouth so she could clearly see how to pronounce it. I couldn't help but smile lightly as she struggled with the words. Her brows furrowed together as she tried to say my name again, to identify me again as her savior and her murderer. She struggled with the foreign taste in her mouth just as I struggled with the name Sakura Haruno. Our cultures were so different, our languages so isolated that there were not many who could master both intricacies.

"Masutangu-san?" she asked again, trying to dampen the sound of the vowel at the end. She looked to me for affirmation or denial, her face lit up with a childish curiosity. I nodded, chuckling slightly at her hopefulness. A laugh. That wasn't something I heard in Ishval very often. Well, excluding Kimblee, but everyone knew he wasn't fully together anymore. I could see her blush with the praise, obviously embarrassed.

I could see her eyes flash to Alex, a mixture of concern and gratitude in their depths. She remembered him, could identify him as the man who had protected her. She understood that he had saved her life.

"Alex Armstrong," I introduced, pointing to him. Alex nodded, pointing at himself as he repeated his name to her. Sakura blinked, focusing on the space in front of her as she tried to imprint the name on her memory. All these names had to be confusing. But she simply nodded, her eyes closing for a second as she rolled the name around in her mouth like fine wine. Too bad, that the taste in her mouth would be nothing but dust and decay and fire.

"Arekkusu Āmusutorongu-san. Arigato." Even I knew the meaning of that, a basic phrase picked up as a child. Alex was trying not to cry, always the sentimental man. Sakura was watching him, eyes growing wide as she probably jumped to the wrong conclusions at the sight of his tears.

But any effort to explain was interrupted as Hughes returned with two members in tow. The curtain was pulled back and the three members entered, Marcoh excusing himself to work on other patients. Hughes stepped out of the way, revealing his two new companions. General Fessler and a black-haired woman who I could assume was the translator.

"General," I responded, saluting quickly. My eyes flew from Sakura to Fessler, hardening as I calmed my anger at his appearance. "She's Xingese," I reported, keeping it simple enough. Fessler nodded, turning to the translator.

"Get to work."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**The names that Sakura uses for the people from Amestris are the Japanese versions of their names from the manga.**


	5. Chapter 4: Kill

**Author's Notes:**

**Hello, my dears! ************And welcome to my little corner of the fanfiction universe! Here are all my thank yous.**

**Thank you to _Affirmative. Negative, A Midsummer, Guest, kami in a box, Raven Luparyu84, Royai, Scarlett Winds, StarKiss666, Ten, Twisted Musalih, VampireHuntress72095,_ and _xbLoOmZx_ for reviewing.**

**Thank you to ****_2008roseelixir, blackmagic0203, darkroxas92, Gaze Into The Sakura, jaded wanderer, Khait Kherpi, leroalice, MariDark, _****_Raven Luparyu84, Red-Hot Habanero, RedAngel87, RefleR, Shori-chan, socksophrenia, The Kyr,_ ****and****_Vertigo-in-Reverse _for following this story.**

**Thank you to _2008roseelixir, Blue-10-Spades, curomi, DragonBlade00, Eulphy Whitlock-Lupin, Kasu Uzumaki, LivForMusic, MariDark, Raven Luparyu84, RedAngel87, StarKiss666, Twisted Musualih,_ and _Vertigo-in-Reverse_ for adding this to your list of Favorite Stories!**

**Summary: Transmuted into the heart of the Ishvalan War at the age of thirteen, Sakura must learn to survive in Amestris as she is forced to participate in the genocide. With no where left to go after the war, she is adopted by Roy Mustang and must continue forward, trying to find a way home among the chaos of the military and the Elric brothers. Parental Roy!**

**Thank you for reading And I do not, nor ever will, own Fullmetal Alchemist or Naruto.**

**Please remember to read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 4: Kill

* * *

~Sakura's POV~

"Can you understand me?"

I blinked at the sudden words in Japanese, nodding quickly. She was speaking _my_ language! I could understand her! That meant she could tell me where I was, what was going on, who these people were, why these people were doing these horrible things. She could help me. She could save me.

"My name is Maria Ross. What is your name?" Her name was strange, just like that of the others. And what was with her strange accent? But her voice was kind, much like that of my mother's. An effortless sympathy and a caring affection. It made me long to see Konoha again... Was I somewhere near Suna? That would explain the desert, but the not the strange groups of people moving around or the war... and I hadn't seen any of the Sand Siblings. But back to the question.

"Sakura Haruno," I readily responded, smiling at the sudden understanding. Finally, something I could connect to. I could understand! "Where am I? Is this near Suna?" I asked, leaning forward slightly in anticipation. I couldn't help it, I was anxious to know where I was. The sooner I knew, the sooner I could figure out where home was and then I could leave. And I wanted to get home, just wanted to see my friends again.

My hopes were dashed by the confusion on her face. Did she not understand? She murmured something to the other man that had entered with her, the one that hadn't been here before. I heard them mention Suna in passing so they must have been discussing it at least. Did that mean they knew where it was?! Nodding to her companion, she turned back to me with a pained face. "I don't know where is Suna is, I'm sorry. You are currently in Ishval, a part of the country Amestris."

I don't know what look embedded itself on my face as I stared at her, but it must have been one of extreme shock, hopelessness. They didn't know where Suna was? Did that mean they didn't know where I was? I was... lost? There could be no way home if I couldn't find it on a map. Amestris? I had never even heard of the place. It was on no map I had ever studied, in no book I had ever studied, in no lesson I had ever been taught. Amestris had never even existed for me until several hours ago.

"Sakura, how old are you?" Rosu-san gently prodded, trying to draw me out of my stupor. Her face was tight with her own worry, but hers was directed at me, not at my apparent lack of understanding.

"I'm thirteen," I numbly responded, still too choked up on the fact that they didn't know where Suna was. No Suna meant no Konoha. No Konoha. No home. No no no no. This couldn't be happening. Her face radiated shock this time as she reiterated the response to her companions. But what was there to be shocked about? I could see the looks of horror and confusion flit along their faces as they realized my age.

"Wait, aren't you a shinobi?" I finally asked, confused at their reactions. Thirteen was a fine age to be a shinobi. It was standard. There was nothing wrong about it.

"Sakura," Rosu-san began slowly, speaking evenly, "what is a shinobi?" I blinked, shaking my head in denial. No, this couldn't be possible. How could they not even know what shinobi were?! No! Where was I?! I couldn't be so far that they didn't even know what shinobi were! No! That wasn't possible! No! No!

"A shinobi..." I hesitantly began, but decided against it. These people, if they knew what a shinobi was, what would they do with that knowledge? They were in the middle of the war, in the middle of killing all those people. I couldn't. I couldn't just bequeath unto them that knowledge knowing how they'd use it. "It doesn't matter," I numbly responded, blinking rapidly as I tried to calm down my heartbeat. Even if I was lost in wherever the fuck this was, I had to keep my head around me.

"Sakura, how did you come to be in Ishval?" Rosu-san inquired, apparently anxious for the answer. We all were, me included. That was certainly a question I wanted an answer to. But I sensed that I wouldn't get a clear answer to that anytime soon.

"I… I don't know," I finally said, shrugging my shoulders.

No arms, no arms. But there were still shoulders.

I hesitated for a second before continuing. "I was just walking when I felt something yanking at my arms and the next thing I knew, I was having all this information shoved in my head. It was..." My voice hushed to a whisper unbidden, and I could barely croak out the next words. "It was pain." I shuddered, trying not to remember the agony of the influx of information. "And then I was standing in this white world. This… _thing_, it wasn't even a person really, told me I'd seen the "Truth" or something. I don't really understand what it meant. But it was Kami! It told me it was Kami! But why would Kami do that to me?!" I shouted out, unable to suppress my rage. What had I done to deserve that?!

"And then I woke up in the basement of this strange man and I discovered that my arms had been torn off," I quickly concluded, turning my head away to signify the end of my tale. Rosu-san nodded at the new information, relaying it back to the men around her. There were various expressions of shock in response to my story, but they calmed down quickly enough at the command of one of the men. So they probably didn't know how I got here then if they were just as confused as I was.

"Alright, Sakura. This man is General Fessler," Rosu-san informed me, gesturing to the man to her left with a hand. Fesurā-san was the one who had calmed everyone, hiding behind the brim of his hat. I could see it. He was scared of me. It was in his body language, the way his muscles tensed and the way he unconsciously leaned away from me. But... he was still here? Why? Fesurā-san nodded his head, mouth drawn up in wicked smirk. "Fessler is the leader of all the men in this portion of Ishval." So he was the commander behind the operation. Oh.

"He is ordering that you fight for him or he will have you killed."

What? My eyes widened at the sudden command, the hostile takeover of my life.

He wanted me to kill?

For him?

He wanted me to commit this genocide alongside him?

"Will you comply?"

"I'm… I'm a medic," I weakly tried to protest, eyes widening as I fell headfirst into the madness. What was going to happen? I didn't want to die? But I didn't want to kill. "I don't take lives. I save them!" I watched her blink in shock as she continued to discuss with Fesurā-san. Apparently I wasn't what they had expected. But what had they expected? Wait... was this why they had saved me? To be there weapon?! Fesurā-san finally pushed Rosu-son aside, face coming in close to mine.

He was shouting things at me, face blurring in and out of existence. Oh Kami, what was happening? What was going on?

I didn't...

I couldn't understand.

One word repeating over and over as he made various motions.

But I could understand that word.

"Kill." Fesurā-san gestured stabbing, tearing away at the flesh with a serrated blade. The invisible blood flung across the tent, covering my face in a gory destruction of innocence. I had seen this happen before, watched as Kakashi-sensei impaled Haku. Haku... Haku was dead. Blood flying everywhere as Zabuza stared on in horror. Oh Kami, Zabuza, why was he just standing there? Why was Haku on Kakashi-sensei's arm? I could still see it playing out across my vision stuck on repeat.

I couldn't do this.

I wasn't ready, wasn't prepared for anything of this scale. They said that shinobi were usually chūnin before they even got close to those situations. I wasn't prepared for this yet. I couldn't just turn around kill people… could I? No! No! What was I thinking?! I couldn't! I was medic! Medics didn't kill people… they saved people. But medics were shinobi.

I was a shinobi.

"Kill." Fesurā-san pretended to an enemy's throat, jagged wounds hanging open. I couldn't heal that. Couldn't heal it as someone bled out all over the tent. Hadn't Kakashi-sensei done that before? They said he was an ANBU. They said he killed people like that. Kakashi-sensei wouldn't flinch at something like this. I could practically see the blood fly from the wound, drenching the tent in red. Couldn't they see the blood?

I was a shinobi.

I always knew that I would have to kill people, that there would come a day when I would have to snuff out someone's life. I knew this was coming! Why hadn't I, the queen of preparation, done something to ready myself for this gut wrenching concept? It had been foolish to ever think I could avoid that as a medic. I was just a foolish girl running away from foolish fears.

Even medics killed.

"Kill." Fesurā-san drew an "X" in the air over an invisible target, carving out their heart with a dull blade. I could feel the impact of the body falling to the ground, smashing into concrete, bleeding out all over the earth. Oh Kami, had he cut out my heart? I could barely feel the pounding within my chest. Everything had gone so blurry. All I could see was the bodies hitting the ground one by one by one.

Even medics killed.

The people who saved lives had to take a life every once in awhile. It had to happen. People had to die to ensure that others lived. It was just another part of being a shinobi. It was just another part of life. It was natural to kill someone as a shinobi. I couldn't be distressed about it. It would have happened to me eventually. I would have had to kill. But could I kill now? Could I really kill someone _now_?

Could I really take someone's life?

_"What is the toll?"_

"Kill." Fesurā-san stopped motioning, his hand stilling before he could inflict another lethal wound on the blood soaked air. The entire tent was staring at me in response, watching me with a careful understanding, a cautious fear.

The word I had uttered, I understood what it meant.

I knew what it meant to take a life. And it looked like if I was going to survive, I was going to have to kill. So I would kill. I would do it.

Fesurā-san smiled again, wider this time, less afraid, the only smile amid a sea of horrified gazes. Masutangu-san looked to be in pain, his expression one of deep regret and anger. Why was he angry, though? I was doing what they wanted? Why was he angry? Āmusutorongu-san was frozen, his mouth agape as he spluttered out incomprehensible words. I don't think anyone really understood what he was saying. Not even him. The man with the glasses was just standing there, looking about ready to wretch. But why? Rosu-san was just looking from Fesurā-san to me then back to him again, her mouth unable to form any words.

_"You have already paid it."_

"I will kill for you."

* * *

~Roy's POV~

"Kill." That one word froze the tent.

Snap.

There went another life.

I turned towards Sakura slowly, watching her expression turn from one of panic and disturbance to one of controlled numbness. And oh God, it hurt, watching one so young learn how to lock away pain. Watching some of the soldiers around me do it to escape the pain made me wish I could. But I couldn't go numb like they could. I couldn't just shut off everything and continue functioning. I wasn't the goddamned robot Amestris wanted me to be.

Sakura knew the situation she was in. She knew it by now. She realized that killing would be the only way for her to stay alive. Even if she was a medic, she was a weapon first according to the military. She was going to be used by Fessler until she died. In reality, this was far from equivalent exchange, a destruction of the entire spectrum it seemed like. The lives of all these Ishvalans were not worth just the life of one girl.

Yet I had exchanged their lives for hers.

And what a shattered life she would get after this. If she even survived the war. Fessler was going to bleed her dry if he had her way. We might as well have killed her when we found her. That would have been the kinder thing to do. So much kinder for her.

Second Lieutenant Ross turned to Fessler, murmuring lowly. Her tone was clearly pained as she practically spat out the words at him. "She says that she will kill for you." Fessler laughed out loud, smiling jovially in the face of her crushed innocence. Ross deflated beneath the weight of his happiness, gazing at the ground with something akin to horror. But it wasn't her fault. She'd just followed orders.

We were all just following orders.

"Excellent. Hughes, go find First Lieutenant McKine. He used to be an automail mechanic." I was surprised Fessler even knew that. He didn't care enough about his men in the field, so why would he care for their credentials? "He should be able to hook her up to some of the plastic prostheses." Hughes saluted before fleeing the tent and Fessler. I could sense he was disturbed by this, but we didn't have a choice anymore. Insubordination would get us all killed and we couldn't afford that. The most we could do now was watch out for the girl.

"Mustang, continue to watch her," Fessler sharply ordered, reminding me of my new duties as her keeper. "Armstrong, you're being shipped out of here in two day's time. Until then, stay here and don't make any more messes," he ground out, eye glinting dangerously in a barely veiled threat. "Ross, you are dismissed." We all saluted as Fessler let himself out of the tent, flap flying away from him. Ross exhaled a sigh of relief once he'd gone. She settled onto one of the other cots in the small room we had created for ourselves. Holding her head in her hands, she looked miserable, terrified even of what she had just done.

I cursed lowly, sitting down beside Alex with a vague anger and irritation. "Congrats, Alex. You really saved her," I bit out lowly, unable to keep out the small trace of venom that leaked in. I couldn't help it. We had saved her. And for what? For her to die on the battlefield somewhere most likely.

I looked up after a second, watching Sakura's expression carefully. Her face was blank, emotions hiding behind a dam. But her eyes radiated a determination that I hadn't seen in a long time. She would survive. For now at least, she would survive. She looked like she could handle what was going to come for the most part. It would just be acclimating herself to it that would be hard.

Marcoh entered our little quarantine a few minutes later, conferring with us about what had happened and what he had to expect from his new patient. After a few tense minutes, Sakura cocked her head to the side, watching us a she drew her legs into a criss-cross position. She muttered something to herself, her tone low and somber, but it seemed to calm her down. She eventually breathed in, eyes closing.

Meditation?

"What is she doing?" I asked Ross, tearing my eyes away from my new ward to look at her translator. After a brief exchange between her and Sakura, Ross turned back to me with the answer.

"She says that she's healing herself. She needs to focus so she can..." She trailed off as our eyes were drawn to the pinkette. Oh my God. What was she doing? I could see Sakura's eyelids fluttering as her eyes moved beneath them, searching within herself to find the sources of damage. It was as if she was scanning herself, a machine set out to do its work. But what was even more amazing, was the slight greenish aura that had arisen around her back.

What sort of alchemy was this?

She was murmuring to herself in rapid Xingese, most likely little comments about her state of health, but she stopped after a few seconds, frowning. Marcoh smiled slightly to himself, knowing she was finding the results of his healing. He struggled to heal everyone, but who he got to, he did a damn good job on. Sakura looked to him, eyes snapping open in an instant. She started speaking rapidly, trying to crane her neck around so she could get a better view of her healed back.

"She's going off about how this isn't possible. No wound that bad should be able to be healed in that short a time," Ross explained, brows knitting together in confusion as she switched between direct translation and paraphrasing. "Even Master Tsunade isn't that proficient?" The last part came out as a bit of question because she couldn't understand the reference. Whoever Tsunade was, she was must have been a brilliant healer, but we simply didn't understand who she was.

"Does she not know about medical alchemy?" Marcoh asked, bewilderment crossing his features at the sight of her confusion. "They specialize in it in Xing. Alkahestry. She should know about this, especially if she's a medic."

Ross and Sakura exchanged in another brief conversation, the words "alchemy" and "Xing" being thrown out frequently. Sakura's expression only grew more confused, her expression finally drawing to one of complete shock and horror. She was shaking her head, eyes as wide as they could be. Ross paused for a second before turning back to Marcoh. "She says that she has no idea what alchemy is or where Xing is."

"Not from Xing?" Alex asked, drawing attention back to himself for the second. He'd sat on his cot in bleak confusion for most of the time, bemoaning the fate Sakura had received, but he seemed to finally pull himself out of it. "But she's clearly Xingese," he restated, stating his confusion aloud.

"She says she's from a place called Konoha," Ross supplied, watching the girl carefully out of the corner of her eye. Sakura was squirming under the gazes, clearly uncomfortable from the stares. Especially when she knew we were discussing her. She probably recognized some of the words, knew we were talking about her location issues.

"Major Mustang, I'm here to help with the automail." I turned as McKine entered, saluting sharply. I waved away his hand, never one for formality on the battlefield. McKine had a toolbox under his arm and a broad smile on his face. He was probably just glad to get away from the frontlines for awhile and do something he loved again. Like most of us, he was young, twenty-four at the most, only promoted because he'd saved a couple soldiers in an ambush. But he was a good kid.

"Come in. Ross, explain to her what's going to happen," I ordered, running a hand down the length of my face tiredly.

God, this tent was getting crowded.


	6. Chapter 5: A Shinobi

**Author's Notes:**

**Hello, my lovelies! A****************nd welcome to my little corner of the fanfiction universe! Here are all my thank yous.**

******************Thank you to ********************_19Teardrop94, _********************_A Midsummer_, _Amara-nii chan, kami in a box, like. a. Sir56, Malthinae, Raven Luparyu84, Royai, Scarlett Winds, StarKiss666, Twisted Musalih, Vampire Huntress72095, vampiremisress96, _********************and **_WolfTwin2_ for reviewing.

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**Summary: Transmuted into the heart of the Ishvalan War at the age of thirteen, Sakura must learn to survive in Amestris as she is forced to participate in the genocide. With no where left to go after the war, she is adopted by Roy Mustang and must continue forward, trying to find a way home among the chaos of the military and the Elric brothers. Parental Roy!**

**Thank you for reading and I do not, nor ever will, own Fullmetal Alchemist or Naruto.**

**Please remember to read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 5: A Shinobi

* * *

~Sakura's POV~

"Sakura, move your arms?" I nodded at the order, shifting my new right arm up and down, followed by a clumsier motion with my left. It was still rather difficult, but it was getting easier at least. MacuKainu-san nodded to himself with a smile, apparently satisfied. Four weeks had passed since they'd attached the plastic prostheses to the stumps of my arms. They were a bit too long because they were built for adults, hanging by my side gangly.

I had slowly started learning the Amestrian language but it was difficult. Still, repetitive phrases and body parts had become easily identifiable from my physical therapy and my constant time in the medical tents. But physical therapy was all I did now, day in, day out. Work until I crashed, then heal myself as best I could, then just keep going until I crashed again.

I coughed, blood flecking the air, but we both ignored it. It was a habit now, pretending that the blood wasn't there, that I wasn't slowly drowning beneath it. It was common enough now, the blood. It had become an ever present taste in my mouth, making all food nearly inedible (not that it was really edible to start with). But I had to keep eating. Keep getting energy, nutrients. I couldn't afford to crash now. There was too much at stake.

Tomorrow was the day.

The day when I would have to kill.

Fesurā-san had given me one month to learn how to use the arms. That was it. And tomorrow that month ran out. Now, I was barely able to make hand signs with my new arms, though they weren't good for much else. But that was all I needed them for, making hand seals and just basic operation.

"Major Mustang!" someone shouted out, coming to attention. I didn't bother, continuing with my work. But I could help bu peer over as Masutangu-san came in, smiling tiredly. My guardian. Ash lined his face, evidence that he'd been out working again, stacking more corpses. I'd learned shortly after my arrival why he smelled like fire. He was the Sasuke of this world, born to kill with fire. He practically _was_ fire it seemed like.

I smiled to myself, determined to work harder now that he was here. I wouldn't pull him back, bring him down anymore. I was done dragging my team down. I was no longer going to be the weakest member, the one left behind. I was going to be the best. I would actually help. Sasuke-kun was gone, Naruto was gone, Kakashi-sensei was gone, Konoha was gone, so I'd have to work my hardest and adjust to living here as best as I could.

I struggled with my fingers some more, contorting them into the most basic of hand seals. Most of my chakra would be used for enhancing my limbs, but a basic genjutsu would help stop people. If I could render them immobile long enough, then it would be easier to kill them. I had to stop thinking like a child, had to start thinking like the adult I was forced to become.

_Ram. Dog. Dragon._

Cough.

I wiped the blood from my mouth onto the shoulder of my the tan tank top they'd given me, frowning. My shoulder was stiff with dried blood and I didn't have time to keep stopping like this. I had to keep practicing. This was my last chance to practice. If I caved like this tomorrow, I would die. I just had to keep pushing myself otherwise I would die.

_Ox. Tiger._

Cough.

I ignored it this time, trying to keep going and ignore the gurgling in my stomach as I tried to overwork myself. I didn't have to stop. I could keep going. _Had_ to keep going. Tomorrow, I was going to kill or be killed. I couldn't die. Not yet. Not yet.

_Rabbit_.

Shit. I didn't have time for this.

I leaned over the edge of the bed, throwing up what was left of my lunch along with an excess of blood. "Kuso!" I felt strong hands grip my shoulders, holding back my hair as I continued to empty the contents of my stomach all over the floor. I coughed, spitting out bile and bloody spit. Damn it Damn it. Why today of all days? Why did this happen today?

"Sorry," I spat out, one of the words I had learned very quickly. That's all I seemed to be saying lately. All I could manage to do, beg for forgiveness. I couldn't even stop myself from throwing up, how I was supposed to survive?

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry."

* * *

~Roy's POV~

"Is it really okay for her to keep doing this to herself? There's got to be some sort of internal damage going on," I asked with concern, watching Sakura clumsily move her fingers. It was still amazing what she could do in just a month of having prostheses. She'd already managed to make some semblance of hand movement, even if it did constantly put a strain on her. But that was the problem, she was working without even caring what it did to her. She was straining herself to the point of killing herself it seemed like.

"Major Marcoh said she was doing well enough to continue, but I don't know," McKine admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a dusty hand. His eyes slid to Sakura for a second, but finally returned to my face. "Patients aren't supposed to move this fast, even if it is just plastic prostheses. And she-" He cut off as he saw her move in his peripheral.

Shit.

Sakura lurched to the side suddenly, throwing her head over the edge of the cot in what had become what seemed like a ritual. Her arms hung beside, unable to help her when she needed them. I moved over to her, holding back her hair as she threw up blood all over the floor. I tried not to be disgusted by it, telling myself that I'd seen worse on the battlefield. But for all that I had been so removed, safe behind a shield of dust and ash. Here, it was my hand on her neck, holding her away from the blood. Oh God, was this what it felt like for her when she fought?

"Sorry," she moaned out, coughing out more of her life all over the floor. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry," she whispered again , holding the mantra to her like a lifeboat. Perhaps it was all she had to cling to, this idea that maybe things would get better.

When Sakura finished, she lay there for a second, just catching her breath as she rode out what must have been waves of excruciating pain. She panted in silence for awhile as McKine began cleaning and the others in the tent turned away from her. They'd had the decency to give her that much privacy at least. But the long-terms here knew her. They liked her. They protected her.

"Sorry," Sakura murmured again, dejection and disappointment clear in her voice. She was mad at herself again. We'd realized it as soon as she came. She hated to be a burden to others, hated to make anyone go out of their way to help her. It made her daily life so hard now that she could barely control her hands. That was why eating was still a problem. She couldn't control the fingers of the prostheses and would always end up crushing the utensils or just wouldn't be able to pick them up at all. The fingers were unreliable and clumsy, but it looked like she was gaining a small mastery over them. She hated eating, hated how I often had to feed her now.

But she was working herself ragged trying to gain a meager bit of independence. She was trying so hard to give herself her own life. If she wasn't careful, there wouldn't be any life to save by the time this war was over. "It's okay, Sakura," I tried to reassure, holding my hands up in a placating motion.

"No," she stubbornly insisted, not even turning to look at us. I knew she felt bad about this, felt guilty about all that she caused, but it really wasn't her fault. Why couldn't she just see that? She was just frustrated with everything, most likely. Frustrated with this situation and how little she could do to change it.

"Sleep," McKine gently ordered, moving into Sakura's line of sight. She nodded after a second, depressed frown still in place on her face. It was getting late and tomorrow was the day.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow was the day that I'd most likely watch her die. But I had long ago prepared myself for that. I was prepared to watch almost anyone die. She was just going to be another casualty, I had convinced myself. I hadn't gotten attached to her. I didn't care that she was overworking herself. I didn't care that another kid was getting slaughtered. I didn't care. I _couldn't_ care.

So why did I?

Why was I so terrified to watch her die tomorrow?

"Good night," Sakura hazarded, repeating the foreign phrase that she'd heard frequently. We said it to her every night before she went to bed, a useless gesture to help her feel relatively normal. But it looked like she had appreciated it at least. She looked at us quizzically, trying to judge whether she had said it right or not. I couldn't help but smile, glad that she was at least learning to survive a little in Amestris. Even if she would most likely be gone by tomorrow evening.

But that was a problem for tomorrow.

"Good night, Sakura."

* * *

~Sakura's POV~

I stood at the base of the walls, staring up. The alchemy had warped the dirt slightly, but it was essentially still the same sand around us. The walls were at least a hundred feet high, just like the ones I had climbed to escape from the Ishvalan town. I blinked, fighting back vivid images of when I'd arrived here.

_Jumping, I applied chakra to my feet, running up the wall as quickly as I could. Sprinting towards the sky._

Shaking my head, I threw away the phantom images. I couldn't dwell on them any longer. I had a job to do. I had received my orders, received the command to exterminate everything within the walls.

And that I would do.

I turned my head, barely noticing the presence of Masutangu-san and Hyūzu-san, two of my frequent companions. They were watching me from a few feet away, evaluating my performance for sure. I couldn't fail them after they had done so much for me. They'd taken care of me, given me arms. They'd protected me. I was not going to fail again. I wouldn't drag my team down again.

I would not let them down.

I shot up the wall, feet, pounding along the dirt as I propelled myself up. I couldn't help but hear the small gasps from those watching my ascent. Clearly, they were no shinobi. It was a matter of seconds before I reached the top, throwing myself over with a cry.

"Shanarro!"

The Ishvalans knew I was coming and I needed to motivate myself. I needed to connect myself to my home. I needed to feel like a shinobi. If I was going to kill like a shinobi, then I needed to feel like one. Flushing chakra into my new prostheses, I angled myself towards the nearest house...the nearest target. They weren't houses, they were shelters for targets.

The roof gave way beneath my feet, the supports of the walls crashing beneath the sudden influx of weight. I coughed as dust sprung up from the collapse, rolling to lessen the impact of such a large jump. Landing among the rubble of the third floor, I spun around. Two faces reached out to me among the walls, dust-covered and startled.

Not faces. Targets. Targets.

I couldn't see them as people anymore. They weren't people. They weren't people.

"I'm sorry."

I ran up to the first target, fumbling as I tried to grab his neck with my plastic hand. He slipped backwards, yelling something in Amestrian, something I still couldn't understand. His eyes were narrow, one of his hands thrown out in front of the body of the second target in defense. With his other hand, he reached for what I had learned was a gun. I shook my head, biting my lip as he tried to shove his wife -the second target- out of the way.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

I could feel the tears beginning to slip down my face as my muscles coiled, prepped for the unspeakable. Oh Kami, how could I be doing this. I wasn't ready to be a shinobi. I wasn't ready to kill like this. I couldn't do this. I couldn't. But I had to. But...

"I'm sorry."

My heel connected with the first target's neck, throwing him backwards. Why was this so easy? Why wasn't he fighting back? I felt the bone give way, felt his head snap to the side. Why did his neck snap so easily? It took me a second to register the body hitting the ground.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Eyes wide, sightless. Oh Kami. Those eyes would never see again. Neck twisted around. Mouth open. But there were no words. Oh Kami. No words came out of his mouth. Oh Kami! He was just lying there. What had I done?

WHAT HAD I DONE?!

Someone was screaming. The wife (Second target. She's not human. She's just a target. Just a target.) looked up at me, staring at me in fear. Oh Kami, she was terrified. Of me. The monster come to kill everything she ever loved.

Her mouth worked, spitting out words as I tried to approach her. The screaming cut off, followed by the sound of something hysterical. Near hyperventilation at the thought of killing someone again. Killing. I had done that. In cold blood, I had killed someone. I had just _killed_ someone, tore away his life. i was a medic. I didn't kill. Medic's didn't kill. I couldn't be a shinobi. I wasn't ready for this. No. How was I supposed to deal with this? How was I-

I barely felt it as the gunshot tore through my shoulder, tore through the ports for the prostheses. But then the pain roared out beneath my skin, flaring across the right side of my chest. "I'm sorry," I whispered again, numb as I smashed her rib cage with a foot. Why was this so easy? Killing shouldn't be so easy. Killing? Killing was easy. She cut off, falling to the floor next to her husband.

Oh Kami. Oh Kami. Oh Kami.

The pair of them, white hair, wide red eyes. No. No. No no no no no NO! Both staring at the ceiling. What had I done? Just always staring. Just always staring. She was clinging to life, reaching for her husband even as the bone fragments tore at her lungs. She was dead.

The first people I had ever killed.

I had killed.

Dead. They were actually dead. I had killed them.

I had KILLED them.

I could feel the tears coursing down my cheeks, fingers twitching uncontrollably as nerves were shot to hell. I shook my head, trying not to feel their eyes on me. Oh Kami, they were looking at me. I turned away, feeling the nausea rising in my throat. I leaned down, vomiting whatever was in my stomach onto the floorboards. I coughed, feeling my system beginning to rebel at the overhaul of movement. This was too much. Too much. I couldn't do this. I couldn't. But I had to keep going.

I had to keep moving.

Or I would die.

Just like them.

I was barely aware of the door as it tumbled around me, edges slipping away through the tears. I was sobbing and screaming as I staggered blindly towards the door. Oh Kami, what was going on? The house was falling to shambles as I left, breaking apart at the seams. At least the two inside would have a grave now. Putting a hand to my arm, I could feel the blood slipping down the shoulder. But one drop was all I required.

Dabbing it onto my finger, I slammed down the bloodied hand onto the ground. Black kanji exploded across the ground from my hand, flowing across the desert.

"Sakura-sama?" I looked up, smiling at the familiar presence. Yume. This was my life boat. This was my last connection to Konoha. Tsunade-shishou had made me sign the slug summoning contract when I'd first started as her apprentice, taught me how to use them for medicinal purposes. But it looked like I was going to need them for other things now.

It was too bad that only Katsuyu was really efficient in battle.

Yume was the largest slug I could summon and I was proud of that. Even in the state I was in, this unbalanced state of hysteria, I could summon her. She towered above me, reaching about ten feet up, nothing in comparison to Tsunade-shishou's Katsuyu. But she was still dangerous, could still spit acid. She could demolish a house, destroy a person, destroy an entire city.

"Yume-san," I breathed out, feeling relief at the familiarity and the comfort. Oh Kami, I hadn't realized how much I had needed her, needed this small anchor to sanity. "Yume-san, I need your help," I murmured, feeling ashamed. This was my job and yet, I couldn't do it by myself.I felt guilty, having to get her involved in my killing as well. She didn't deserve this, didn't need to do this. And yet I was making her.

"Sakura-sama, what happened to your arms? Are you alright?!" I cringed at the worried tone in her voice, feeling her mothering aspects begin to show in her voice. But we couldn't afford to waste time on this. The Ishvalans knew I was here and they would come soon.

"There's no time for that, Yume-san," I shot back quickly, holding my arms up awkwardly in an attempt to appease her. "I've landed myself in the middle of the war and I'm going to need your help if I'm going to survive." Instantly, I could see her go rigid, could see the flashbacks coming back from Tsunade's early days in war. But I knew she wouldn't abandon me. By the contract she couldn't and as a friend, she wouldn't let me die like that.

"What do you require?" she asked, voice stiff with tension.

"I need to exterminate this entire village," I admitted, staring at the street for a second before I looked up back at her.. I could see her eyestalks move to evaluate the blood that undoubtedly covered the majority of my face. I could feel it, staining my skin as it soaked in. My first kills (I had killed people.) had been messy, unpracticed, untrained. I had been unprepared. "I'm sorry, but I need your acid."

"Then you may have it."

I could use her. I could survive.

Even if I had to kill. I could survive.

I could do this.

I was a shinobi.


	7. Chapter 6: Beautiful Weapons

**Author's Notes:**

**Hello there, my lovelies! ****A****************nd welcome to my little corner of the fanfiction universe! Here are all my thank yous.**

**Thank you to_ alice, asredwer, eirame, Fireboy19795, Guest, Guest, kami in a box, Mark Dohetry, _****_purehearts22, RavenLuparyu84, Royai, _****_SasukeTanteiPHlover, StarKiss666, Twisted Musalih, vampiremisress96, x-Beyond-B,_ and _19Teardrop94_ for reviewing.**

**Thank you to ****_AndThereShallBeNone, Astrokitty, callmeYRIAL, CamilaSF, Chantelle04, cruailsama, Demkat, _****_eve1963, _****_Fireboy19795, Franavu, Infamous13, InkPawXD, irishauthor94, _****_KuroHikaTsuchi, Lady Sunleth, _****_Nova-girl703, _****__****_purehearts22, _****__****_raiten, sheisthesun, Sovereign X22, tmjay10, untamabledragon144, uzumakiftw, Vulc10900, whatisee,_******************************** and**_****__****__****__****__****__****__****__****__ whendeathdies_******************************for adding this to your Story Alerts.**

**Thank you to _airplanes. like. shooting. stars, AndThereShallBeNone, Anksunamun-chan, Brainsoup, eve1963, Kartoffel-chan, KuroHikaTsuchi, Lady Sunleth, Lazy to Write, Middle-Earth fan 202101202, Nova-girl703, onehitknockout27, _****_purehearts22, raiten, _****_SasukeTanteiPHlover, Shane Griff, _********and **_****__****__****__x-Beyond-B _for**********for adding this story to your Favorite Stories!**

**Summary: Transmuted into the heart of the Ishvalan War at the age of thirteen, Sakura must learn to survive in Amestris as she is forced to participate in the genocide. With no where left to go after the war, she is adopted by Roy Mustang and must continue forward, trying to find a way home among the chaos of the military and the Elric brothers. Parental Roy!**

**Thank you for reading and I do not, nor ever will, own Fullmetal Alchemist or Naruto.**

**Please remember to read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 6: Beautiful Weapons

* * *

~Sakura's POV~

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry." I limped up the wall, each step a battle within itself. Nothing was responding right, foreign limbs attached to a foreign brain in a foreign land where nothing made sense. Nothing was working right. Everything was tripping over everything making movement impossible. My left leg had been shot again, only grazed luckily. But still, the blood loss was enough to make my head spin. Or maybe that was the chakra exhaustion or the overuse of the barely functioning prostheses or the pain. Or maybe it was just the fact that I had killed them.

I had killed them.

I had done that.

_Eyes wide, sightless. Oh Kami. Those eyes would never see again. Neck twisted around. Mouth open. But there were no words. Oh Kami. No words came out of his mouth. Oh Kami! He was just lying there. What had I done?_

_WHAT HAD I DONE?!_

Oh Kami, they were dead. And it was because of me.

I had killed them. Like a monster, I had destroyed them, ripped them apart and crushed their bones, ground them down to sand in this goddamned fucking desert! Didn't this desert ever end? Didn't it ever fucking end?! I was going to go crazy, locked away in the heat and the fire and the war and the sand. I had done that. I'd bought my life from Truth and this is what it had gotten me. Death and destruction and madness, so much madness. Even the men were going mad, locked out here. Ishval wasn't a desert, it was a cage.

And I had destroyed them. I fought for survival with tooth and nail and claws I didn't even know I had.

Just like a true shinobi.

I was a shinobi now, inducted by the blood and the gore that decorated me and the images that hung before my eyes like paper stars. I'd used to wish for that. One every star I saw, I used to wish that I could be a shinobi. And now the stars danced before my eyes, laughing at me now that I'd gotten my wish.

I'd been blooded. I'd killed. I could see their mangled corpses before my eyes, no longer just a fantasy, no longer something out of Kakashi-sensei's stories from his ANBU days. I was a real shinobi now. I had my own stories, my own battles, and my own scars. And it wasn't going to end. It wasn't just, go out, kick ass, fall in love, marry Sasuke, the end. It was different now.

It was reality.

I was a real shinobi. And real shinobi were murderers.

My eyes were glued to the sky, watching the blood-flecked clouds move over the landscape. It was like red cotton candy floating through the sky. Everything seemed painted with blood, dripping with it. I could feel it peeling away my skin, drenching my bones and my lungs- oh Kami, why couldn't I breathe right?- and dripping off of me as well. Was that why it was so hard to move? Was I just wading through the blood now? Was I drowning it?

I could still hear them echoing in my ears, the screams. I could understand now, what they said. I could hear every single word and I knew what it meant. I could hear them begging and I hadn't been able to stop. I just had to keep going and keep going and keep going until I died.

Is this what Itachi felt like when he killed his clan? Did he feel the blood? Had he shouted angrily or done it numbly, stared in abject horror as the bodies dropped? Is this what Sasuke felt like when he walked into it? Did he feel the weight of the massacre crushing his bones? Could he physically feel the death? Could he see how miserable it would make him, how twisted he'd become because of it? Had he known?! Had he known, like I knew now, that it would kill him, that this would kill me?

I reached the top of the wall, stumbling over the surface. I could see it now, both sides. The harsh rigidity of the military tents and the morbid desolation of the Ishvalan town. I was on the border caught between the blood and the pristine, the dead and the horribly alive, the fire and the even hotter fire. I swayed slightly, propelling myself over the wall, moving towards home. My cot in the med tents. That was the only home left for me at the moment. I didn't have anywhere else to go. It was all I had left. I just had to keep moving. Keep going. Stumbling down the wall. Down and down and down.

I could feel my face hit the dirt, body stuck to the ground, mind off in space, head reeling. Head reeling. Head reeling. What happened? Oh Kami, it hurt. Everything just hurt. When had I gotten down here? How had I ended up down here? Down in the dirt and the sand and the heat of the desert? What happened? "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Why was everything still covered in blood? Why?!

"Sakura!" Masutangu-san? I could feel his hands against my skin, could feel… Could feel the blood slipping between my broken fingers. Could still feel their fingers as they tried to pry me off loved ones. Could still feel their blades as they tried to stop me. I could feel everything. It was too much. Too much. Too much feeling. I didn't want to feel like this.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please forgive me. I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, Sakura." Masutangu-san's voice was reassuring, trying to take some of the burden from me, some of the pain. But that was my pain, my burden. I couldn't let him take it from me. He had enough and I, I was too fresh a killer to let it leave. I had just killed at least a hundred people, maybe more. I'd lost count, never really kept track. Too many lives had been lost. And it was all my fault. All my fault. All my fault.

_WHAT HAD I DONE?!_

"No."

Nothing was okay.

I had killed them. They were dead because of me!

All my fault. All my fault. All my fault.

And then the world faded to black and I succumbed to the nightmares and the pain.

* * *

~Roy's POV~

"Hughes!" I whispered fiercely, shaking him awake. He woke with a snort as he flinched back from the touch, what seemed like the hands of an unidentified intruder. It was habit now for most of us, flinching away from unknown hands. They were untrustworthy, they were the first sign of waking up in a torture room. But we'd tried to protect ourselves as much as possible, making shifts with friends. One person slept while the other one guarded. It was about the best we could do.

But the screaming had kept most of us awake during the respite in our fighting. Truth be told, I'd been surprised by the large amount. I thought that she wouldn't have been able to cause damage like that. She was barely thirteen and even if she was able to take down much of the sixth division, they were green and unsure. The Ishvalans would kill her in a heartbeat. I thought I would have to burn away her corpse just like the others.

But there she was, standing above her victory, standing at the top of the wall, barely conscious by the looks of it. She was hanging on to the last remains of functionality, her eyes already half lidded and unfocused. She was swaying, trying to make her way down the wall. Stumbling across the dirtied wall, she dragged her left leg behind her slightly. But it was impossible to tell where she'd really been injured because of the blood.

She was covered with it as expected. From the little I had gathered, her fighting style depended on close quarters, meaning that she would be on the receiving end of the gore. And then she was falling, smashing into the dirt from fifteen feet up. I didn't look away this time, knowing where she would end up. She hit the ground with a sickening crash, her arms bent awkwardly beneath her in a futile attempt to catch herself. She let out a small cry of pain, but it was obvious that she couldn't feel much anymore.

"Shit! Sakura!" I was running to her, trying to gain purchase with the ground as I sprinted over. She was gasping, trying to find air to breathe with. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kimblee sneering at this so called "affection" that was weak. But shit, I couldn't just leave her like that. She was under my protection! I had watched too many of my men die.

Like hell would I leave a kid to get slaughtered as well.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she whispered, over and over again. I could see her tear tracts clearly, the only areas clean of the blood. Everywhere else had been splattered, decorated with the splattering of bloody roses. Her eyes were wide, unfocused from the pain or the emotional trauma. She wasn't aware, slipping into Japanese, but I could still understand what she was saying. I'd uttered the same words so many times as I scorched the land barren.

* * *

"_Please forgive me. Please forgive me." Fire exploded from my fingers, scorching the landscape. I tried to block out the screaming, the incessant wailing, tried to stop breathing so I wouldn't have to breathe in the acrid smoke, tried to stop seeing the walls collapse in on each other and smash everything. Everything around me exuded the scent of my flames, of burning. My flames. My burning. I had done this to them. I had torched them._

_Was that all I was now? A beautiful weapon, carefully shaped and cared for by the military?_

_It was no wonder they called the Flame Alchemist. That's all I had left, the flames and the fire and the burning and these goddamned flames! It's all I ever saw, sand and flames and burning and corpses oh God, why couldn't it just stop?! Why couldn't the fucking flames ever just end?! Why wouldn't they just stop?! I didn't want this anymore! I didn't want-_

"_Roy, I think you need a break." Hughes. Don't burn Hughes. _Can't _burn Hughes. He's a friend._

_I turned an eye to him, staring at his face. His face was lined with ash as well, nose slightly burnt from the sun. There were lines beneath his eyes from exhaustion and stress, complementing his bruised eyes from insomnia. His eyebrows were knit together in the telltale signs of concern, but he was trying to smile gently in comfort as well and all it did was construe the whole damn picture! Damn it, Hughes! I didn't need a break! I couldn't break!_

_He was worried for me, thought I was cracking under the pressure. I would not crack. I couldn't break. I couldn't just go insane like Kimblee and abandon myself to the madness he freely accepted. But I couldn't just become one of the mindless drones working for the military without a real thought about what I was doing. I couldn't do that to myself, even if it was easier. I couldn't do anything except struggle on like this and it hurt. God damn it, it fucking hurt!_

_But hell if I'd let Hughes in on that. I couldn't let him burn alive._

"_No! I'm fine!"_

_Snap._

_There went another life._

* * *

"It's okay, Sakura," I whispered, trying to reassure her again that what she had done was natural. Anyone in her position would have. Everyone was just trying to save themselves in this war. We were all doing it. We had been ordered to. Just like she had.

"No," she stated, stubbornly resisting comfort. Did she feel like she wasn't deserving of it, that she wasn't deserving of comfort? of salvation? Not that I could blame her. Most everyone here thought that. But she? She was different. She had her entire life ahead of her.

And then she finally surrendered to unconsciousness, eyes shutting as she sealed herself off from the world. She shut down, broke off from reality, hid from the horror of the desert. "Sakura... Sakura, wake up," I whispered, shaking her gently as to not start any bleeding again if she was injured.

It was only a few seconds before Fessler appeared on the battlefront, cap pulled low over his eyes to guard against the sun, against the blood and the image of what he had ordered her to do. "Lower the walls! Everyone on guard!" Fessler eagerly shouted, signaling to two other alchemists to lower the barrier. He smiled, waiting with a restless energy. It was a moment before the walls lowered, settling out into the ground. The dust took a few more seconds to settle, but nothing came through. And then we saw it all.

The destruction of a shinobi.

Nothing was left of the village, nothing at all. Practically every single building had been leveled, most looking like they'd been eaten away by some sort of acid. The structures had all been toppled, walls thrown across each other like dominoes. "Sakura, what did you do?" I asked the dead air, staring at the wreckage that had become apparent. There was even more stretching on, piles of it all around.

And then there were the bodies.

Those were in the same state as the buildings, thrown carelessly to the side. I heard one that was still moaning in agony as he tried to cling to life, but everything else was silent. Even the desert wind had calmed down in a moment of respect for its dead. We were silent, staring at it. Most just couldn't make a sound, too horrified by everything. The bodies were twisted, arms and legs and necks hanging at strange angles. Heads and chests had been caved in, blood spreading around in an explosion. And some, some were only half there, corroded away by the acid.

I tried not to look, but my eyes were frozen, glued to the scene with a half-recognition.

I had seen corpses like this before. Half there, eyes glassy, mouth open, charred beyond recognition. But still, seeing this reminded me too much of it. I could practically smell the fire in the air as I torched down buildings. The scream of the walls as they collapsed inwards. The familiar smell of burning flesh. But she had downright demolished the buildings and then killed them individually with kicks. She'd gotten up and close with every one, killing every single thing in that town, looking every single one of them in the eyes as she tore them down. No one should ever have had to do something that drastic at her age. Or ever.

I looked down at her, feeling her thin frame. It hardly seemed possible that she had caused all that destruction. This girl was only a child and yet, she'd been able to do that?! What else could she do? But my worries were interrupted by the sound of laughter.

Fessler's laughter.

"And what _beautiful_ weapon have we found ourselves?" he laughed, drawing out the words with as much bravado as he could manage. "Mustang, excellent job finding her." I had to restrain myself, couldn't kill him however much I wanted to. God, the sick bastard. She was unconscious. These people were dead. And he was laughing. "Mustang, take her to Marcoh. Bring her to me when she wakes up. Kimblee, take a few men and search the wreckage for any survivors." I saluted sharply, picking up the limp girl in my arms.

"Don't get too attached, Mustang," Kimblee called out, smiling with his typical manic laughter shining in his eyes. I wondered if he'd always been like that before Ishval or had something snapped? Had he saved himself from the screaming of the Ishvalans by reveling in it? "She'll be dead soon enough, just another _fool_ killed in Ishval." He laughed again, completely ignoring Fessler as he sauntered towards the town. He was already shrugging off his jacket, tossing it at a private he'd dragged with him.

"Hughes," I quietly said, turning to the man. "Bring McKine to the med tent. The prostheses have got to be ruined from the blood. He'll need to fix them." Hughes nodded, sending a last searching glance at me before he took off to find McKine. I could feel the stares on my back as I walked away, the prying eyes trying to figure out exactly what my relationship was with the strange new weapon.

But that wasn't important at the moment. I had to get Sakura medical attention. She could be dying and I would have no way of knowing. It was impossible to tell what exactly her injuries were when she was covered in all that blood. It was impossible to tell whether it was hers or theirs. God, she was practically soaked in it. It was dripping off of her, marking our path. I guess it really didn't matter at that point.

She was covered in blood and she was far too young.


	8. Chapter 7: Things Unsaid

**Author's Notes:**

**Hello! ****And welcome to my little corner of the fanfiction universe! ****Alright, some major thank yous are in order. Please bear with me, it's a long list. ****I love you guys to infinity! You are all wonderful and amazing! And here's a plate of cookies for all of you!**

**Thanks to _2AwEsOmE4yA_, _A Midsummer, AndThereShallBeNone, animelover191, asredwer, AstroKitty, cruailsama, CryptlXeeper, DarkRain4Eternity, Elelith, Gijeena, Guest, Guest, Jay, kami in a box, Kosmas, LoreleiJubilation, Maya33, Royai, Royai, SasukeTenteiPHLover, __Shinzochi, StarKiss666, Twisted Musalih, _and _xbLoOmZx _for reviewing! Thanks especially to ****_animelover191 _for being my 100th reviewer! You are fantastic!**

******Thanks to _101bubbly, _****_2AwEsOmE4yA, Aragaurn, _********_BellaAnnaPryde, BlackHreat, Bluemoonyue, Choixpeau, Copper Yew, _********_DarkRain4Eternity, eragon456, Fallen's child, Genuinely-Unique, _****_Gijeena, _********_Jasmine Marie Vladimir, KafeiDetour_**, Kahryez, Kattz Sync, Kenraknom, Kohlii, Kraziibunny11, LoreleiJubilation, RedPanda1, ROGMethos, **_Shinzochi, ShiroFurse, Sirius-Black-is-not-dead, Superbias, TsknRaider, usrname, _********__****_YGONarufan, _************************************and**_****__********__********__****__********__****__ Ze Puffa God_**********************************for following this story.**

******Thanks to _101bubbly, Anbu-chan, BellaAnnaPryde, BlackHreat, CelestialDragon777, DarkRain4Eternity, eragon456, Fallen's child, Genuinely-Unique, Hannah Bowers, Jasmine Marie Vladimir, KafeiDetour, Kitsukami, LastMidnightcat, LoreleiJibilation, nn-9, One lost in a Crowd, _****_Shinzochi, Superbias, YGONarufan, Ze Puffa God, _****and**_** Zurcior**_** for adding this to your Favorite Stories!**

**Summary: Transmuted into the heart of the Ishvalan War at the age of thirteen, Sakura must learn to survive in Amestris as she is forced to participate in the genocide. With no where left to go after the war, she is adopted by Roy Mustang and must continue forward, trying to find a way home among the chaos of the military and the Elric brothers. Parental Roy!**

**Thank you for reading and I do not, nor ever will, own Fullmetal Alchemist or Naruto.**

**Please remember to read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 7: Things Unsaid

* * *

~Sakura's POV~

"Sakura, I'm… we need… give up your bed…" Marcoh-san shouted as he moved to another patient, working quickly and efficiently. I couldn't understand most of the words, but the little I gathered made sense. They needed me to give up my bed. And it was for obvious reasons. The hospital was nearly full, the few doctors bustling around doggedly. "Surprise attack…" he continued, breaking off as he tried to bandage someone's leg. I nodded, understanding more than ever the horror of the war that I'd gotten myself into.

I tried not to envision the blood and the screaming and the bullets and the guns, hear the screaming in my head. There was already enough of it here. I didn't need to imagine own. I could keep it under control. Nodding sharply to Marcoh, I tried to keep the images of my own massacre to a minimum.

_Eyes wide, sightless. Oh Kami. Those eyes would never see again. Neck twisted around. Mouth open. But there were no words. Kami. No words came out of his mouth. Oh Kami! He was just lying there. What had I done?_

_WHAT HAD I DONE?!_

I blinked, inhaling quickly against the images that assaulted me. I fisted my hands, trying to stop the uncontrollable tremors that ran through them. Three days and I still couldn't get the pictures out of my head. They were just there, always there. I suppose living in the med tent didn't help with that, always being surrounded by the blood and the gore and the pain, but hell if I would leave. This was the only home I had really had. Even in Konoha, the filth of the hospital had been my home. It was just going to take some time to... readjust.

If Marcoh-san saw, he didn't bother saying anything. He was probably too lost in the world of his medicine that he didn't have time to address it anyways. But maybe... maybe I could help?

"I help?" I asked quietly, stopping Marcoh-san in his tracks for a moment. Pausing, he looked at me helplessly. I could see it in his face. He wanted to let me help, but... I was still technically an unknown. He looked indecisive, shouting things at his helpers rapidly. It was one thing to let me loose on a battlefield which was contained and had no Amestrian soldiers in it, but it was something completely different to let me have access to them at their weakest. "I will not hurt. I will heal," I said again, pulling at my meager reserves of chakra to help demonstrate the fact. The plastic of my hands glowed green, lighting up the air slightly.

"Bandage," he said hastily, shoving a roll at me before he got back to working. I lost track of him quickly, staring at the bandages with a small smile. It wasn't much, but it was something. I guess I understood. I couldn't really do any harm with bandages, but it was still helpful for them. I went around, tailing Marcoh-san, bandaging up his patients. I helped a few times, going in with chakra for a few minutes to help spur healing before wrapping up the injuries. But the other doctors would always chastise me and tell me to stop before I could do too much.

Fear of the unknown.

It ruled everything down here.

But I couldn't just let them die because they'd been hurried over by the others. I had to... I had to help. I couldn't… I couldn't let anyone die under my hands again. I just… how did they expect me to keep doing this, killing people? I was made for healing, not for slaughter.

These hands, they barely felt like my hands anymore. My hands, they saved, healed people. I was supposed to have the hands of a healer! I was supposed to be doing something right with these hands! These hands, they destroyed, killed people. They destroyed everything they touched. These could not be my hands.

They just... couldn't.

"Marcoh?" Mustang-san came into the tent, tan cloak billowing around him like the smoke around him. _"Hello again, little one. We said we'd be back. Very soon. Very soon," t_he smoke seemed to say, billowing around my caretaker oddly. It loved to coil around his fingers, twisting upwards to wreath him in a crown of thorns.

I continued to bandage my patient, making every effort to heal along the way. I was trying to be stealthy about it, but with Mustang-san in the room, there would be no hiding it. I would just have to stop completely. I quickly cut off my chakra and felt the woman beneath me gasp in surprise. No chakra meant no pain suppressant. All of her pain had just come rushing back, tidal wave of agony washing over her. And I wasn't allowed to do anything about it. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry!" I spat out quickly, trying to reassure her. I bandaged up the bullet wound on her arm, winding the gauze tightly. I couldn't help with the pain anymore, but I could do that. "Arm saved," I said with my broken Amestrian, my accent beginning to dim a bit.

"Thank you," she replied, smiling tiredly from where she was lying. There was so much I wanted to say to her, the woman lying there.

That was my cot. I was completely out of chakra and I really couldn't afford to be giving away anymore, but I was using it on her. I hated her because she would keep her arms and go home and stop killing and I wouldn't. But I was extremely glad she got to keep her arms. And I was glad that I got to help her. She needed a shower soon. That was my cot. That was my bed. That was my home she had just taken.

But she needed it more than I did, so I guess she could have it.

* * *

~Roy's POV~

"Thank you," I heard Sergeant Jones say, nodding her head in a gentile appreciation to Sakura. Jones smiled tiredly, eyes gazing at the child sadly. It must have pained her to see her hurting and healing and now running around helping the doctors. We all hated this, but we didn't have a choice so for now, all we could do was try and protect her as much as possible.

But there was only so much we could do.

"She's one hell of a girl, Mustang," Jones said, looking up at me with a smirk. Her brown hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, leaving her face bare to the dust. And it certainly took advantage, clinging to every part of her skin, including the long gash that had seared its way from the corner of her eye to her jaw. Jones was in her early thirties and had a kid waiting for her back home. She must have been glad that she could finally leave and go home.

"You're telling me," I said, smiling as Sakura finished bandaging up her arm, wrapping them tightly. But Sakura was tired, that much was clear. Her hands were trembling, shaking at what should have been an easy task. Her eyes were buried deep in her thoughts and bruised from sleeping badly. Marcoh had said something about nightmares, but that wasn't much we could do about that. That happened to almost everyone here.

"Get her out of here," Jones ordered, though we both knew her words had no real power over me. But she she was looking at Sakura like a mother. Perhaps she saw her own child in Sakura, just another innocent face. "She doesn't belong in this part of the war, not when she's so deeply tied to the other." With her other hand, she gently brushed hair from Sakura's face with her good hand. Sakura flinched instinctively, but seemed to snap back to herself almost immediately. It was strange to see her wearing the habits of us older veterans, but it was no surprise that she had them. She looked up in surprise, smiling.

But her eyes told a different story.

The untold images were constantly swimming just beneath the surface. She was haunted, that was for sure. Marcoh said that since she'd woken up, she'd been spacing out a lot more often, losing her sense of place and time. Flashbacks? She wouldn't say, but it couldn't be good.

When she'd woken up three days ago, she'd clung to me for at least an hour, just sobbing her heart out. She hadn't even cared that people could see her. She was just in too much pain. It had destroyed her, having to do that. And now we had to be careful about how we put her back together again. We needed her to be strong, but we couldn't let her think that was all that mattered to us. But we needed her strong enough to survive and finding the balance would be the hard part. At the moment, she was barely scraping by, barely holding herself together. We'd taped her up as well as we could, but only time would tell how the scars would heal.

"I'm going to take her to Hawkeye. She's off duty right now," I told Jones lowly, watching Sakura finish patching her up. I vaguely wondered if she realized that was Sakura's cot that she was taking up. Sakura would stare at the bloodstains that night and know where they came from. Jones nodded in reply, seeming to agree with me. Or perhaps she was just too high off the pain to really understand anymore. Not like it really mattered.

* * *

~Sakura's POV~

"Hello, I'm Riza Hawkeye."

I looked up at the new woman standing in front of me (leaning down really). And Kami, looking at her face hurt. She reminded me of Ino and Tsunade-shishou and Naruto all at the same time with that bright blond hair or hers, that sunshine hair in this desert. But everyone was sending memories at me now. The way people walked or talked or just how they looked. I was just homesick, I guessed. It had been over a month since I'd landed here. Hawkeye-san was smiling sweetly, hand outstretched in an Amestrian form of greeting.

Didn't they realize that people hid knives in the sleeves of their clothing? In Ishval, shouldn't they have realized that by now? This was such a bad idea. It wouldn't be long until someone got their hands cut off and then he, they'd be just like me.

Except they'd go home.

"Sakura Haruno," I responded, voice wavering as I took her hand and shook it. She continued smiling, trying to relax me, I thought. She was really trying to be nice and I was just going to screw that up. I was just too keyed up on memories to really feel affected by her smile, even though it was really pretty. Kami, she looked so much like Ino with her short hair. And those beautiful wide eyes. And when was the last time I had said something nice to Ino? Oh Kami, I had disappeared without telling her goodbye or that I'd miss her.

I was going to die out here and she would never know I missed her.

"Sakura, are you okay?" I could vaguely hear Mustang-san talking to me, voice drawing me back. Back back back into a world without Ino and her sunshine hair. I hadn't stopped staring at Hawkeye-san yet, still too stuck on the similarities between her and Ino. They even had the same round face, the same eyelashes, the same everything. I was just staring and staring at the face of the best friend I would never see again and why couldn't I stop? He gently put his hand on my shoulder and I flinched back instinctively, the force blasting me out of my fantasies.

"Fine. I'm fine," I muttered hurriedly, trying to smile. Kami, I couldn't keep spacing out like that anymore or it'd just get me in trouble. Mustang-san looked down at me, frowning thoughtfully. Had I done something wrong? Had I disappointed him somehow? I felt the smile melt away on my face as I met his gaze. It was... It hurt to know that I had disappointed him so quickly. But that was okay... I'd manage.

"Take care of her, Hawkeye," Mustang-san said resolutely before he swept off, pulling his gloves on in one fluid motion. He exchanged glances with her, some emotion I couldn't read passing between the two of them. She nodded to him, coming to a sharp salute as he departed. I watched him leave, saddening as he left. There went one of the last real people I knew. What had I done wrong? Why was he so unhappy around me? Did he just think me a burden? My eyes dropped to watch his feet kick up dirt from this damn desert. It was strange, feeling emotionally fragile. I hadn't really felt like this in awhile.

But I'd be fine. I was always fine.

"Don't worry, Sakura. He'll be back," Hawkeye-san promised, watching him leave as well. Her eyes traced the tattered edges of his cloak as they whipped around him. Hughes-san peeked out from his tent as Mustang-san passed, following him quickly, probably to help ground him amongst the flames. It was easy to lose yourself in the carnage if you didn't have a tether back to the waking world. You needed someone to make sure you didn't lose yourself to the madness.

"He's going to burn them until they're as black as his eyes," I whispered to myself in my own language, staring after him. "And then he'll burn his own heart out." The black under his eyes had started getting darker lately, his lean frame withering away. He had done fine when it was just him, but now that he had a charge to worry for, it was taking its toll. I was causing him all of this worry and it was killing him. The war was straining him and it was going to kill him soon enough. That was fairly obvious. It was going to kill all of us soon enough.

I was going to die and no one would even care.

"Sakura?" Hawkeye-san asked, turning to me. Her eyes were sharp, watching me with uncertainty and an ingrained mistrust, but she seemed genuinely curious at what I had said. The way my name was wrapped up in her lips was strange, foreign. She'd never spoken Japanese before. But...she was trying to reach out to me.

"The war will kill him," I stated quietly, looking at her through my peripheral. I saw her face tighten slightly, but it didn't look like she had never considered the idea. It was obvious really, from the way he looked. "It killed my friend too," I confided, unable to stop drawing comparisons between Mustang-san and Sasuke. Well, Sasuke hadn't really died. He'd always been dead, dead because of Itachi. Hawkeye-san's eyes widened in shock at my second statement, but I didn't stop talking. "We need to stop. The war will kill us all."

"Don't think like that," Hawkeye-san gently chided, her eyes sad. Her hand instinctively tightened around her gun, knuckles whitening. "We're going to get you through this, Sakura. You will live," she assured, a determined steel flecking her words.

I wanted to say so much more to her, to explain why I would, because it should have been easy to see. I was young, inexperienced in killing. I would be constantly stationed on the front lines until I died. And if I didn't die, I would soon lose my mind to madness. I didn't have a tether to draw me back. I didn't have a goal or something to push towards, just survival and the grim prospect of more killing. It was a simple fact of life. Odds were, that I would die. I'd spent enough time in a shinobi hospital to know what happened when you were out there, alone, without anyone to ground you.

"We won't let you die," Hawkeye-san insisted, putting a hand on my shoulder. I suppressed the flinch, knowing it would just make her worry that much more. She stopped talking for a little bit, simply standing there with her hand on my shoulder. Just like Kakashi-sensei used to. Just like Ino when she was reassuring me. Just like Tsunade-shishou when I finally healed that damn fish. The two of us stood there in silence for awhile, the ghosts of Konoha guarding me as we simply staring at the moving camp.

"Have you ever used a gun before?"


End file.
